The Moments in Life
by mentalsunflower
Summary: One hundred drabbles, one hundred chapters, and one hundred moments in life...
1. Beginnings

**A/N:** Okay, this is one long and complicated thing about Furuba I'm writing. It's going to be 100 chapters, 100 drabbles about a certain word. For example, fish, flower, etc. Then I write something about it.

There's actually a chart on livejournal with the words I'm stealing. Heehee. So the credit for the words/idea of using them for drabbles goies to **fanfic100** So hopefully they won't sue me. Heh.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Beginnings**

Relationships are hard. But it's always the beginning that's the hardest.

It's the awkward stage, where the air is thick with tension and silence. It's the "I-like-you-and-you-like-me-but-what-do-we-now?" stage.

Take Hiro and Kisa. It's almost inevitable how these two feel about it's each other. It's like an unspoken agreement of love everyone else knows about. Everyone must admit that Hiro is a bit more obvious in his feelings than Kisa, but even she treats him differently than anyone else—even Tohru. Now t_hat's_ saying something.

The other day, Hiro helped Kisa when her things spilled from her school backpack. Out of chance, she kissed him on the cheek.

Sudden, impulsive, and confusing.

It was then Hiro decided it was time to speak the unspoken. He blurted out how he felt, with lots of blushing, yelling, and stammering. Kisa replied, very quietly for one born as the tiger—"I like you too."

So now, those two children are stuck. What do they do? Start dating? Pretend it never happened? Stay friends with the awkward knowledge and wait until they're older?

Neither knows.

Both wait.

But it's only the beginning.


	2. Middles

**A/N:** This takes place in manga book five. Oh, I'm also going in the order of the words on the chart, so it's not like I can pick when the muses strike me. One by one I go! 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Middles**

The two males shifted positions, as far away as they could get from the girl in between them.

Tohru noticed this. Out of all the things she decided to ignore, she saw _this_. It made her all the more uncomfortable. _A few days ago, they wouldn't have shuffled over so far in the car their heads were nearly sticking out the window!_ She sighed heavily, but got no reply from either of the boys.

They were going to a summer home! They should've been happy! Even Hatori was coming! But…ever since that night at her mom's grave…

Shaking her head, Tohru peered over to Kyo. He had rolled down his window halfway and had his left hand sticking out. The wind caught it and held it up as they drove along. His other hand held his chin in an almost bored manner, but Tohru could see the stiffness of his body. Again, she felt a sudden chill seep through her body.

Turning to the right, Tohru saw Yuki with his head leaning against the glass pane. His hands were clasped in his lap, legs crossed. His eyes were glassy, proving his mind was elsewhere. He, too, was pressed up against the door. Tohru could have farmed the space between her and the boys; it was so large and empty.

Shigure was sound asleep in the front, and Hatori was silent, obviously concentrating. Tohru drummed her fingers in her knees as she thought. She had been stuck in the middle because Kyo and Yuki had argued (more like swore and screamed) that they didn't want to be beside each other. Tohru, ever the peacemaker, had agreed to sit in the middle. She thought it would have been _fun._

But so far, it was anything but.

"Yuki-kun?" Tohru asked hesitantly. A few seconds later, he started, head jerking up. He turned over to her, looking slightly rumpled.

"Yes?" he asked in a strained voice, putting on a complacent smile.

"Um—I was just wondering what you were doing."

He paused. "Just…thinking." He turned to look out the window again, and Tohru blew her bangs up. So much for that conversation.

"Kyo-kun?"

Kyo snorted at his name, jolting up and nearly out of his seat. He looked over at her, his eyes half-closed.

"Oh!" Tohru gasped. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize you had fallen asleep!" She began to blush.

"It's nothin'," Kyo slurred, rubbing at an eye. "My hand was starting to get numb anyway."

"Oh. Well. I guess I don't have to ask what you were doing." She smiled nervously. Kyo shrugged back.

"I guess." He turned back to the window and stuck his numb hand back into the wind. Tohru didn't understand the logic of that, but she just shrugged. Nothing was really making sense.

Maybe that's what being in the middle did to you. It warped common sense and conversations.

Next time, she was getting the window seat.


	3. Ends

**A/N: **Wow! Thanks for the reviews, guys! I'm so excited for this story of mine, hehe. Yay! I'M SO PUMPED OHMYGODWTF. This one makes me sad. Aww. My own writing shouldn't make me sad, should it? Is it good when writing makes you sad? I dunno.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Ends**

Everything has an ending. A favourite book, a song, a street, or a particularly delicious food. Hours end, minutes stop, and days finish off and turn slowly into the next.

Everything has an ending.

The rain is coming down in sheets. The wind is strong, ripping tree's branches back and forth in the gale. A strange whistling noise is heard above the roar of the wind. No one is outside. Everyone ran for cover as soon as possible—no one in Japan is fond of storms.

Especially Kyo.

But there he is, walking down the streets, not even shielded by his umbrella. His legs are weak, and his breathing is shallow. But he continues to walk. He'll brave the rain; he'll brave the weakness of his true form.

It's time to pay a visit long overdue.

As lightning flashes in the sky, he sees the sign. It's old and rusty, swinging in the wind. Its creaking shriek is eerie, and Kyo hesitates. He looks down, sees numerous wilting flowers, and yanks them out of the dirt. Kyo tries his best to tidy them up as he walks past the sign and down the path hidden by shadows and large, overhanging trees.

Inside the path, the wind is quiet. The rain is slowing down. But the minute he walks back out on the other side, the wind rips at his hair and clothes again. Shivering, he makes his way to the tombstone.

It stands, silent and strong, against the wind. The rain is washing it, but he knows it hasn't been visited in years. He can just imagine the silvery stone, caked with dirt and dust, its flowers crumbling and blowing away in the breeze. Sighing heavily, he bends down to wipe the mud that's dripping slowly across the words. His hand is dirty now, but he ignores it.

Fiddling with the flowers, he decides to lay them at the base of the grave. He squats down, arms rested on his thighs, balancing on the balls of his feet.

It's been a long time. He hasn't thought about this place in ages. He hasn't thought about this _person _in ages.

"I'm sorry Mom," he whispers, wiping more mud off. He hates saying it, but he knows it's true. He's sorry for a being a monster. He's sorry he isn't normal.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be the son you always wanted," he whispers again, knowing his voice is lost in the wind.

Everything has an ending.

Even a life.


	4. Insides

**A/N:** Wow, this one is really short. But that's the thing. They can be all sorts of lengths! Yay! I can be lazy! Second one in a day. I'm having a fun! I also love having words because I can use them in any way I want. Yay! This is a wannabe funny chapter, by the way. I told it itwasn't funny. It insisted on being put up on my story though, so I gave in. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Insides**

Yuki looked down at the box of food in front of him.

"Take out? _Again?_"

"Hey, you don't like my cooking!" Shigure defended, holding out his palms in an innocent gesture. "If only you were more open-minded…"

"Your cooking is just disgusting," Yuki snapped, picking up his chopsticks. He hesitated, sighed, and then set them down.

"I don't think my stomach can handle anymore take out food."

"It's from the good place downtown!" Shigure pouted, taking a big slurp of his noodles. "Mmm, delicious!"

Yuki felt his stomach curdling. "Eugh…not to mention the smell of this place. When was the last time we cleaned it?"

"Cleaned it?" Shigure asked with a snort. "Since when has a thing like _that _ever happened around here?"

Yuki glanced around the room. Garbage was steadily rising to the roof. "Yea…I guess you're right," he agreed half-heartedly. Things around here were unlikely ever going to change.

Feeling his insides rumble with hunger, Yuki sighed again, picked up his chopsticks, and dug into their twentieth take out meal that month.


	5. Outsides

**A/n: **I'm pretty uncreative, no? Don't worry! A shipping one will be coming soon! I just need the right ideas. SOB.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Outsides**

Akito didn't understand. Why did everyone want to go _outside? _Why did everyone want to leave the safety and the bliss of the Sohma Estates?

The first one was Shigure. Any other Sohma could have left, and Akito wouldn't have cared half as much. But a zodiac? It was appalling! What had Akito been drilling into their minds ever since he was there?

_Stay here…it's safe here, we're friendly here…we understand your troubles._

Disgusting idiots! Akito hated every one of them for feeling the need to run, with their tails between their legs! He should have never allowed Shigure to leave the Estate. _Never. _Because after Shigure left, that's when Ritsu got the crazy idea to head off to college. Idiot! They were all idiots!

But after Ritsu left, Yuki ran off. Just…_ran._ Left the estates. Left _him. _Akito didn't understand. Nothing was great about the outside, nothing at all! They were all in danger of being found out, of letting the Sohma family secret escape! And Yuki was never supposed to leave! _NEVER._

And Then Kyo scuttled off to the mountains. Akito didn't really care about that pathetic monster. Let him run, let him hide in the rocks—no one wanted to see him anyway. But it was the principle of the thing that got to Akito. All of the juunishi, just…running off—it was disastrous. Thankfully, everyone else decided to stay. Akito was pleased to see that he had Hatori wrapped around his little finger, and the other children were just too frightened of him to leave.

Ritsu had some type of valid excuse—he had to go to college. But Akito hated him anyway; so maybe it was a good think he decided to leave. But the others…as much as he loathed Kyo, he was important. He was needed.

What was outside? What was so appealing of this unknown place where they had no control over _anything? _It just didn't make sense.

But that's when it hit. He knew what was outside. He knew what those men wanted so badly.

Love. A warm heart. Someone to look out for. Pfft! How stupid! What terrible logic these men had! They didn't need _anyone! _Akito was there for them! Who else could they need? Who else would they _want? _

He knew whom. He didn't want to know, but he did.

_Her._


	6. Hours

**A/N: **I love these things, because I can write WHOEVER with WHOEVER, WHEREVER! Even things/people I would _never _normally write about. Love, love, love.

Can you guess who this is? Hopefully.

Oh, and one of the reviews gave me an idea. I _might _make two or three drabbles connect with each other. I don't know yet. I'd have to have some pretty good inspiration. But anyway.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Hours**

Hours aren't that long. They're just sixty minutes long, and sixty minutes isn't long at all, right?

But when you add them up, they just keep growing and growing and growing, until it seems like years have passed. But really, it's only been two hours since you've seen him.

You sit on the seat of the bus, fidgeting. You could pull the string. You could pull it, the bus would stop, and you could run to see him.

But you don't.

Instead, you close your eyes, grit your teeth, and count to ten. It does nothing. The next moment, when you open your eyes, all you can imagine is his face.

You love him. You do. With all of your heart, soul, _and _mind. But he doesn't love you back, and it hurts a lot. You don't understand. You've been giving him space lately. Really. Sometimes you even go months without visiting! You're proud of yourself. It's an amazing achievement, considering your undying love for him.

You check your watch. It's dainty, made of silver. He gave it to you as a present for your birthday one year. Of course, it was only because you would continuously drop hints and drag him along with you to look at the watch and complain until he finally bought it--but that's beside the point. You've never taken it off of your wrist.

It's been two hours and ten minutes now. Ten minutes! That's it! Since the last time you checked! You're becoming obsessive…you're becoming pathetic. But everytime you see his face, everytime you hear his voice, you just want to _burst._

You don't think he understand just the exact amount of your love. He thinks it's a joke, that you're only doing this for attention. You don't understand. You bite your lip to keep the sudden tears from falling. Why couldn't he show the same commitment back to you? Why can't he love you like you love him?

But you won't give up. There's lots of time to fix things.

Time travels in hours.

And an hour is only sixty minutes long.


	7. Days

**A/N: **The next one will be happier! Lighter! HOPEFULLY funny! Honest. I'm sorry for being so dreary, boring, and drab. I'm sorry. But I'm in a sad mood today. Parents longest silent fight ever equals sad me. Sorry.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Days**

During the first few days, Momiji cried all the time. He would cry in the mornings, nights, and even before he drifted off into sleep.

He just wanted to fade. To vanish into thin air and not arise until he was older, wiser, and everything was over. He wanted it all to be _gone._

But every morning he'd wake up, toddle out to get some breakfast, and see the empty chair where his mother used to sit.

And he would dissolve into tears all over again.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that his mother hated him—the small, innocent child that he was—just because of a curse. Because of some strange magic that had absolutely _nothing _to do with him.

He hated it. He hated not being able to hug the little girls that went to his daycare with him. He hated being laughed at or scorned upon, just because of something that wasn't his fault. He hated how his father tried to comfort him when his mother had ignored him, tuned him out, and screamed at him to leave. He hated it.

He hated not having a mother.

A mutti.

A mom.

Anything. It just…it had never existed for him. From the moment he can remember things, his mother had always shrieked at him to run away. She had called him a monster, a disgrace, a _creature. _And he had always taken it all, thinking it was what all mothers did to their children. He had been young, naïve…

But then, one day, he saw a small boy being enveloped in a large hug by a mother. And that was when he knew things were different with him. Things were different _because _of him.

His father had tried his hardest to make up for things after his Hatori had erased his mother's memories. He and Hatori had made arrangements for Momiji to live with him, so his father could continue living normally with his wife. Momiji ignored all of that. His father visited him daily, trying desperately to cheer him up.

But then it was weekly…

Then monthly…

And then only every few months.

He got used to it. He even got over the fact that his father and mother had another child—a normal child, a wonderful child…one that wasn't screamed at by her mother.

And the only way Momiji could deal with the pain was pretending they all still lived together. By gathering information about his mother and sister from various Sohma family members. It was his refuge, his safety…

But even as he grew older, wiser, and everything was over, he could never forget those first days. The days where he remembered his mother, and even though they were all terrible memories, he had still had a mother. She had still known of his existence.

Now, he was nothing.

And he would remember the crippling pain he had felt those first few days, and Momiji would crumple. He would sit, fighting the tears, fighting the sadness. Those days were over. Those sad, lonely, hurtful days. There were other days, new days, coming his way.

But just as he would never erase the terrible memories of his mother, he would never erase the memories of those first few days.


	8. Weeks

**A/N: **Yay for me being stupid and not reading ahead in the manga! Haha, so all of this is going to equal boring and stupid for those of you who have read ahead. And omg Audley stop tempting me with your words! Rawr hiss. You must never speak of my incompetence again. Never! (grin)

And this one doesn't make much sense. Does it? I'm terrible at staying in character. Bleck at my lack of skills, yay!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Weeks**

"Are you crazy?"

"I'm sorry, Motoko-senpai, I honestly _did _try—"

"A week is much, much too long! How dare you make up such dreadful lies to tell me?" Motoko placed a hand dramatically to her forehead, flapping the other to waft cold air towards her. "Mio-san, bring me a chair. Quickly!"

The small, black-haired girl scurried over to grab the president of the Prince Yuki Fan Club the nearest chair. Sighing heavily, Motoko took her seat.

"This is terrible! It's the worst thing that could have happened!" Motoko sighed once more, straightened up, and flipped her hair out. She glared at Minami. "Minami-san?"

"Yes?" the girl asked, straightening up.

"Tell me exactly what happened—in under one minute. Go."

Minami took a big breath, and then rushed quickly through her explanation. "It was when everyone was headed to homeroom for the day, and I saw Yuki-senpai at his locker. So, I went to go speak with him."

Mio gasped. Motoko's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You talked to Yuki-kun…_alone?_" she hissed. Minami suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"I know I broke one of the rules, but I had to speak with him if we wanted the plan to go through!"

Motoko inspected her fingernails, feeling something like fury being extinguished by curiosity. "You're wasting seconds, Minami-san."

"And so," she continued hurriedly. "I asked him what he was doing over spring break—you know, to see if there were any times we could sneak after him or anything—and he told me he was going to be busy. 'Busy with what?' I asked, and he replied—as sweetly and adorably as ever—'I'm visiting family.'" Minami let out a breath of air.

Motoko's brow furrowed. It was not a pleasant feature for such a beautiful face. "Did you have the common sense to ask where his family lived?"

Minami stiffened at the insulting tone of her voice. "Naturally," she sniffed. "But he only replied vaguely, saying it was up north."

Mio hovered anxiously behind Motoko. Minami pulled on a pigtail nervously.

"I guess…we'll have to wait."

Minami gasped—Mio squealed. "What?" they both asked incredulously.

"You mean you're just going to let him go?" Minami asked almost angrily.

"For one whole week?" Mio chimed in.

"That's terrible!"

"Outrageous!"

"What a dreadful thing to do to Yuki-senpai!"

"Yes, what about Sohma-kun?"

"YOU TWO," interrupted Motoko loudly. "Understand _nothing! _Yuki is obviously lying. He isn't going to spend time with _family_­—he's going to spend time with that _witch!_"

Motoko stood up suddenly, sending her chair flying back. Mio let out a little whimper and ran to stand beside Minami. She had been within inches of the soaring seat.

"That witch, Honda-kun," Minami agreed, scowling. "What an embarrassment to nature!"

Mio nodded vigorously.

"True, true, all true." Motoko tapped her chin in thought with one perfectly manicured fingernail. "We have one week."

"One week?" echoed Mio.

"To do what?"

"To _plan. _To _scrounge. _To _learn _information! Girls!" Motoko straightened, and so did Mio and Minami. "We have a goal! We have a reason for living! We are the leaders of the Prince Yuki Fan Club! We have a responsibility!"

Mio and Minami eyed each other edgily. "Which is…?" Minami asked pointedly.

Motoko heaved an impatient sigh. "To stick to Yuki-kun at all times! We don't just let our prey go, do we?"

The two girls shook their heads. "No!"

"So if he says he's busy, do we just accept it?"

"No!"

"Do you think we should just _give up?_"

"NO!"

"So what are we going to do?"

"SPY!"

"And how long do we have to work?"

"ONE WEEK!"

Motoko grinned. There was time. There was always time.


	9. Months

**A/N:** Kyo spent four months in the mountains, right? RIGHT? I'm too lazy to go check my books. They're a whole room away! (gasp) 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Months**

"Kyo, are you sure you want to stay longer?"

"_Yes!_"

"We've already been here for three months…"

"I _know._"

"You're positive?"

"Yes."

"You know that what you've been going through for the past three months will go on even longer, now that you want to stay?"

Kyo grits teeth together, clenching his fists. "Anywhere is better than there."

Kazuma hesitates, than nods. "If you're sure."

"How many times do I have to say yes?"

"That's about enough."

Kazuma's strained smile does nothing to wipe the scowl off of Kyo's face. After a few seconds of silence, Kazuma sighs, throwing his ponytail over his shoulder.

"Kyo, are you in pain?"

His words cut through Kyo's mind, a piercing blow. They remind him of the physical ache he's been through over the past few months—lack of food, strained muscles, sprained and broken bones, body parts popped in and out of place, bruises and cuts littered all over his flesh…not to mention the mental pain he deals with day after day, week after week. It's almost too much for him to handle.

"I _will _become a better fighter than him," Kyo whispers, hiding his face with his long auburn hair. "I _will._"

"You have to do more than speak it," Kazuma advised. "You have to believe it. I can tell your mouth and heart think two different things."

Kyo's frown deepens, his brow furrowing. "How would _you _know what I'm thinking? You're not the Cat—you're not the monster!" He feels a heavy weight continuing to pound on his shoulders, buckling his knees.

"Maybe not," Kazuma replies in the same calm voice, which penetrated through Kyo's skull, "But you're not a monster either."

Kyo is silent, panting heavily. "I—I want to stay," he croaks. "I do. Really. I need to get better. I need to…_feel _better."

Kazuma's fatherly smile raises Kyo's spirits a tiny smidgeon. "That's what I wanted to hear," he says quietly. "Another month it is."


	10. Years

**A/N: **Oh, in the last one, when I was talking about broken bones, I meant he obtained them previously. He wasn't standing there with bent up arms and legs or anything. He fractured bones earlier on though, but let's pretend Kazuma has magical healing powers, kay?

Oh, and about this one—I know Takaya said Hatori would never see Kana again. Well boo on her. I'm allowed some creative licence, so when you review, PLEASE don't say things like "omgzz he waZZNT sposed 2 meet kaaana evr agn!11" Just no. All right then, now that that's settled…

Oh, and the part about the ring was supposed to be more dramatic, but it came out totally wrong. xD

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Years**

Hatori stood outside of the store, sipping on his coffee slowly. It was one of the rare days where Akito wasn't sick and in need of Hatori's constant assistance—he was very glad to finally have a day off.

He began to stride down the street, being avoided by passers-by because of his height and hair that, he knew, made him look slightly strange to the normal person. He rubbed at an eye wearily, taking a larger gulp of his coffee, ignoring the stinging of his tongue that ensued. Sighing heavily, he stopped at the crosswalk. He really had no idea where he was going. What was there to do, anyway? He wasn't used to so much spare time.

"AAAAAH!"

Hatori stumbled as a body ran full force into him. He let out a small gasp as his Styrofoam cup of coffee fell and spilled onto the sidewalk. Strangers glared at him from the sides, but continued to walk on.

"Oh, I'm sorry! So sorry, really!" The girl stepped back and bowed to Hatori numerous times.

Hatori's stomach lurched. His heart began to beat at a rate he hadn't known it could. He quickly bent his head down to cover his eyes.

"It's no problem," he muttered, sidestepping her and taking one stride away from her. But in order to do this, he had to pass her. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he walked quickly past her.

"H—Hey! Wait! Can I take you out for coffee or something? I really didn't mea—" The girl had grabbed his arm with her hand. This caused Hatori to convulsively wrench his arm away from her. "All right, geesh! I'm sorry…" Hatori stopped walking, not knowing what to do. Walk away, his mind told him, walk away…

He spun around to face her, acting as if he were walking back the way he came.

"Hey!" The girl hadn't left her spot from where she had grabbed his arm. "Are you—is your name Hatori Sohma? Hatori! It _is _you!"

Hatori blinked rapidly, trying to act mildly surprised. "Oh—Kana. Hello." He really tried to be enthusiastic. Really.

Kana grinned up at him. "Just the same as ever, right Hatori?"

He continued to look at the ground. If she saw more of his face, it might rekindle her memories and terrible things could happen. This was so painful. He felt like he just wanted to grab her in his arms and hug her to death—but Akito's words held him back.

"Yea…the same as ever."

"What? You can't even talk to me after all these years?" she teased. "What have you been up to? What's your job?"

Hatori froze. "I'm still a doctor."

"Really? That's so cool! I'm…" Kana stopped talking and bent down to look up at Hatori. She gasped. "Hatori! Your eye!"

He gasped. Was she remembering? What was going on? A whirlwind of memories began to flash in front of his sight. This was bad, this was bad. He was an idiot—he was so stupid.

"It looks a bit strange—almost fuzzy," she continued, reaching up her left hand towards it. Hatori flinched away, not only because it could bring back memories, but also because of the ring on her left hand that he hadn't noticed before.

"Look—Kana," he mumbled, her name coming strangely to his lips, "I have a very important appointment I have to meet. I'm sorry. Maybe we can meet again sometime."

Kana smiled almost sadly. "Yea…I guess."

Hatori strode away, rubbing at his eye wearily. He was an idiot! A bumbling, idiotic, fool! No wonder he never left the estate! He hated himself. He hated himself for ever thinking of proposing, for ever erasing her memories, for being so careless as to daydream while he walked…

As soon as he turned the corner, Hatori leaned against the fence, sighing into his hands.


	11. Red

**A/N:** To answer a question! I'm on Volume 11, which is all it's published to so far. Yea, that's right! I don't read ahead! I'm so in love with Fruits Basket I prefer to wait it out until I have the book in my hands. Not to mention reading on the computer gives me a headache. I READ 202 CHAPTERS OF BLEACH ON HERE PEOPLE. Now I think I have a tumor. Haha. 

I like this one. I do. Lots of you will say it sucks, but I like it. That's that.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Red**

Sunsets were one of Saki's favorite things. She loved to stay up late, reading her books, and wait for the sun to slowly sink beyond the horizon. She would stand up, walk outside, and watch the sky for what seemed like hours.

Sunsets were one of the only things with color that Saki could watch without feeling an emptiness ache inside of her. In fact, the colors made her feel at peace, something the color black seemed to do more often than not.

Sunsets were filled with color, nearly bursting at the seams with their rich, exotic intenseness. Everytime she watched the swirling palette of hues, she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes. It was so strong of an emotion for the emotionless Saki.

Her favorite part of the sunsets was the red. Red would seep into the clouds lying above the sun, swirling and churning until the whole sky seemed to light up with the dark, blood red. Everything near Saki would soon glow under the crimson colors, the other inks like violet and black seeping into the red and creating a strong color. It made Saki's heart flutter.

It was the one time in her life where she could cry freely. She didn't know why she cried. It wasn't out of sadness, and it wasn't out of anger or loneliness…

Saki was just so emotionless. So black. So empty. This color, this red that lit up the night sky, just sent all those hidden emotions tumbling out. Maybe that's why she liked sunsets so much.

But the only color that could truly free her was the red.


	12. Orange

**A/N:** Yea, I'm unoriginal. OBVIOUSLY we all know who and what orange will be about, right? Oh, and I really don't know if he was complimented on his hair. Let's pretend he was! And let's remember I haven't read past VOLUME ELEVEN, so no blurting spoilers! Okay? GREAT. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Orange**

My orange hair has always been my defect. Well, besides that whole Zodiac curse thing.

When I was born I was probably a shock. A disappointment even, just because of the color of my hair. And I _do _remember the reactions of those around me, as I grew older. Even when I was small, maybe five or so, no kids would come to my birthday party. Their parents wouldn't let them. I guess they all saw me as some kind of curse.

I suppose it hurt at first, being scorned at and laughed at and beaten up just because of my hair. But then the hurt turned to annoyance, that annoyance to frustration, and that frustration leading to anger. Everyone assumes I'm this angry, harsh kid just because I'm the Cat—but that's not it. It's the hair.

I wasn't even safe in my own home. My mom wouldn't really talk to me, let alone look at me. I'm pretty sure it wasn't just the Zodiac thing either—everytime she saw my hair, she flinched.

I'm a curse. Not just being the Cat, but the hair. My anger. The way I spazzed at everyone who came near me. I was a disappointment. A shame. Someone that should be locked up, right?

Well, that's what I thought too. Really. I hated my hair, but what I hated more was giving up. So instead I pushed past the people that cringed and the people who laughed and accused me of bleaching it. Instead, I trained. Hard. And tuned out the rest of the world.

And just when I felt like giving up, just when I felt the need to collapse and maybe _really_ lock myself up, I saw hope. A small gleam of hope, maybe because the first time she saw me she didn't cringe. The first time she talked to me about my hair, she said it was a nice color. The first time she kissed me, she ran her fingers through that hair I hated so much.

But it felt good.

Hope changed me—for the better.


	13. Yellow

**A/N:** About the last one—I was saying that I don't _know _if Tohru ever complimented him on his hair. But I was _pretending _she had. All right? I hope that made sense… 

Oh, I like this one! I do, I do, I do. Haha, I'm so modest, right?

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Yellow**

"Oh, look!" Tohru stopped walking down the street to gaze lovingly into a nearby store window. "Look, Kisa-san! Hiro-san!"

The two children stopped walking to look beside Tohru, who was plastered to the glass in awe. "Isn't it so pretty?" she asked.

Kisa blinked. "Um…"

"It's just a stupid sunflower," Hiro snapped, crossing his arms defiantly. "Stupid woman," he muttered under his breath. Kisa ignored him and looked into the glass with Tohru.

"It's a very big flower," she said quietly. Tohru nodded. The sunflower was sitting in the window, along with ten other large sunflowers. They were all in a nice little vase, soaking up the water. "It's actually really pretty," Kisa added.

"Uwaah! Isn't it, Kisa-san?" Tohru asked happily. Kisa grinned up at Tohru, and Hiro felt jealousy boiling in his stomach. "I think that's the brightest yellow I've ever seen!"

"Brighter than the sun," Kisa agreed.

Hiro flapped a hand at the two. "You guys, it's just a flower!"

"But a pretty flower," Kisa insisted, glancing up at Tohru, who was still looking at the flower. She quickly went back to staring at it.

_You only think it's pretty because the Stupid Woman does, _Hiro thought bitterly.

"Do you like that flower, Kisa-san?" Tohru asked suddenly. Hiro's ears perked.

"Yes! I do. It's very nice."

Hiro rifled through his wallet. Darn! No money! Now he couldn't even buy the flower for Kisa. Stupid flower, stupid woman…

"Oh! Hiro-san, what's that? You want to go in the store? Okay, I'll take you in!" Tohru had finally ripped herself away from the window and was looking at Hiro with a shining face.

"W-What?" Hiro asked stupidly, as she gripped onto his wrist and dragged him towards the door to the flower shop.

"Just a moment, Kisa-san!" she trilled back. Hiro fought out of her grip, but she had a determined expression and nothing could get through her now.

"What are you _doing?_" Hiro yelled as soon as they stepped through the glass door to the shop. But as soon as he shouted, his inhaled the strong scent of flowers and candles. He began to cough loudly, making a sort of choking noise. Tohru looked at him worriedly.

"Will you be all right, Hiro-san?"

"If you tell me what—" he stopped to cough, "if you tell me what's going on!"

Tohru nodded. "All right." She walked up to the woman at the desk who had been watching them curiously. Hiro watched impatiently as Tohru said some inaudible things to the lady. The lady walked around the desk and headed for the front window. Hiro watched in shock as she took a sunflower from the vase. Hiro began to fume. What did Tohru want to show him? That she could win over Kisa by buying her a stupid flower? How thoughtless!

Tohru paid for the flower, which was now wrapped in plastic. She bowed her thanks and trotted back over to Hiro with a huge smile on her face.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked as soon as she came near him. "Show me up? I don't have any money! Stop trying to beat me—" he came to a stop as Tohru handed the flower over to him.

"W-W-What?" he asked weakly, gripping the flower before it fell to the floor. Tohru smiled at him serenely.

"The prince always gives his lady a flower," Tohru informed him wisely. With a smile, she walked out of the shop, yelling, "Look Kisa-san! Look what Hiro-san got!"

He continued to stand in the store, dumbfounded. Only when the bell jingled on the door as it was being closed did he snap out of his daze.

"Stupid Woman," he muttered, but a small smile lit up his face as he walked out of the store.


	14. Green

**A/N:** Yuki seems to inspire me more than Kyo. I guess I got all Kyo-ed out with _What Can Come of Cooking. _(heaves big sigh) All well. I do love Yuki! And this takes place BEFORE he lives with Shigure. All right. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Green**

Green is the color of something new. Grass blades just peeking out from underneath the dirt are a vibrant, tasteful green. Buds shooting out from trees are dark and tight, waiting to bloom out the color—the green shell is there to remind you that this plant is new. It's new, because it's green.

Flowers growing at the beginning of spring have thick green stalks, spindly green vines that wrap around the lattice—whatever it is, when it's new, it's green.

Green is the color of youth. It's the color of spring, where winter and cold melt away into bright sunshine and young creatures that blink into the unfamiliar sun. To brighten a room, people stick plants in all of the corners. The green gives new youth to the room.

The plants in Yuki's garden were green. Just sprouting from the ground with tiny leaves poking out of their tight bundles. Well, these aren't Yuki's plants, specifically—they are hidden in the backyard of his cousin Shigure's house, which he is visiting.

"What a lovely garden this would make," he murmurs, gently fingering one of the small sprouts. He can just imagine it growing larger, leafier, and darker—and then withering away into an ugly brown sent on by winter. But soon it will become spring and green will come again.

Yuki wants the plants to stay green. He wants them to stay small and bright shiny with that bright lime green that only new plants possess. He wants them to stay new—he doesn't want things he loves to wither away and die, living a life full of drab browns and heavy fruit.

Yuki thinks as he pats the top of another plant barely two inches above the dirt. The place is disgusting back here—tangled trees dangle over Yuki, and these new plants are growing sparingly among the old and dying plants. It reminded him of his own life—dark and dying, cold and empty. As the backyard was tangled with trees, Yuki's life was so, but with rebellious thoughts. He didn't know what to do. Only those small happy moments; beating Kyo in a fight, planting flowers back at the Sohma Estate and visiting people like his cousin Shigure made it greener. Made it feel like new.

Yuki pushes away an old branch, startled to see a plant that has already begun to bloom. _Now look at that, _he thinks wonderingly, bending down to look at the plant. _Even beneath all this rubble and death, this plant has pushed onward to make color. _He touches the flower gently, caressing it—he is afraid he might break it off because it seems so fragile.

This is his life. This jungle of dying plants is his life. He hates it. Looking at these plants makes him sad, just like when he looks over his own life. He wants to be in charge of it, like how these little plants are taking charge of theirs. They grow no matter the circumstances. Right then, Yuki wished he were one of these new plants.

Green is the color of something new—a new beginning, a new life, or a new change.

Yuki decides it is time for a new change.


	15. Blue

**A/N:** ALL RIGHT. A few things here—I don't know nor care if it's just rain that affects Kyo, or all water. It's all water now, okay? Don't correct me in your reviews. It'll just bother me. And yea, he's a bit out of character. Whatever. I'm not Takaya, I can't do it perfectly. It's not funny, it's not too serious, and it's just a fanfiction. I'm in a bad mood, don't be mad at me. (cries) 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Blue**

I don't really like the color blue. It's drab, it's dreary, and Yuki thought it would be a good color for Tohru—obviously making it a terrible color if _he _thought of it.

I also don't like it because it's the color of the ocean. We all know how much I love water, right? Just so much. If you didn't catch that, it means I hate it. I despise it. I guess it's from that old legend about the Cat—"the true spirit tires out around water. When it rains it's like a slow painful death for the spirit hidden inside. Only the shell, or human form, keeps it intact through the water."

Now, that's not something you want to read. I mean, the damn thing called _me _a _shell! _

I've hated the ocean ever since I remember. In class, we would learn about all the animals in the ocean and I would hate to look at the pictures. It would make me queasy. Everyone laughed at me, but they just didn't get it.

But then we had that summer vacation. I didn't want to go. Really. But Momiji came _barging _into my room on, what do you know, a rainy day, and screamed in my ear that we were going. I was muddled up, I guess. I just agreed. _Agreed. _That's not like me at all.

Eh. Whatever.

So there we were, sitting on the beach, watching Tohru and Momiji swim. I hated being there, but was also kind of—I don't know—jealous? It's not like I _couldn't _go in water. I just never wanted to. _Never. _

And then Tohru started doing her stupid strategy when she was swimming. No one else noticed that she wasn't breathing! Well, Haru did, but only after I had run over there to stop her from killing herself.

I don't know what happened next. There she was, ignoring every word I was trying to tell her, and instincts just took over. I don't know where they came from, but I was on the rocks and suddenly—there I was, waist-deep in water that made me feel like I was going to be sick. I had stopped her from any more pathetic attempts at swimming, though.

But Tohru laughed. I don't know why, but it just stopped me from running back to the shore. Before I knew it, I was spinning her around in the tube.

And it was…fun. Fun? Yea, I guess so. Even though I was soaking, shivering, and suddenly very tired, I was having fun with Tohru. I guess it's the company that make it interesting, right?

Since then, I haven't hated the ocean as much. And blue doesn't seem like such a stupid color after all.


	16. Purple

**A/N: **For this one, when I mention Yuki, I mean ANIME Yuki! Okay? I rarely use anime characters for this, but I need him for this one. All righty then. I love Kisa! Haha. Oh, and I might be using Anime Tohru. Some people ink these pictures themselves, so I never know, goshdarnit!

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.  
**  
Purple**

One of the first things Kisa notices about people is eyes. Blue eyes, green eyes, brown eyes, lavender eyes, amber eyes, grey eyes—and trust her, she sees a lot of those kinds of colors in her family—just any color, really. When people speak to her she loves to look into their eyes…well, once she gets the courage. She can just see _so much _in a person through their eyes. It's always been a talent of hers.

The first eyes she remembers the most are her mothers—as a child she would always love to look into them. Dark, calm, and sensitive. They are filled with a knowledge young Kisa cannot understand just yet. Those eyes have always made her feel safe, protected.

Then there are Hiro's eyes. She remembers loving them at a young age—their liquid brown, always scrunched up in his distaste or dislike. But around her, they always soften. They always open up, just for Kisa.

But then she meets Onee-chan. And Onee-chan's eyes are wonderful—so happy, so bright, so shiny with excitement and cheerfulness. Everytime she looks up at her Onee-chan, she can never distinguish just what color her eyes are. Sometimes they're brown, others they're green or blue, but most of the time they're just a mixture of all three, causing her eyes to look like some sort of earthy rainbow. The moment Kisa had seen them when Onee-chan had been talking to her mother, she knew they were perfect. No one else's eyes can get better than her Onee-chan's.

She's sitting on the deck, reading a note from her teacher. Infuriated, she crumples it up. No one understands! The letter is taken from her grasp by Haru-chan. She doesn't pay attention—Haru's eyes never made her feel much at ease.

Kisa's mind drifts off. Someone else comes. Someone who has a…presence. Perking up, she sits straighter, looking up. It's Yuki-chan! He's saying something to her, something that means a lot to both of them. He bends down, holding the letter idly between his fingers. He still speaks, and as he speaks he watches Kisa.

It is now she realizes that Yuki-chan has the most wonderful eyes. It's not because she loves Yuki-chan the most (although she loves him a lot) but his eyes are just amazing. They are a piercing violet, making Kisa almost shiver. They're not wide open, but they're not half-shut either. They seem to be in a place that makes him look calm—makes him look serene. Not a zombie-like way though—Yuki-chan's eyes are just so…_amazing. _Kisa can't believe it. She just stares and stares at them, his words barely seeping in. No one should have eyes this puzzling—she can't see past them. All that's there is black. Emptiness. _Loneliness. _

Kisa loves her mom. Kisa loves Hiro. Kisa loves her Onee-chan. Kisa loves Yuki-chan. But what she loves most about Yuki-chan (she feels silly to admit it, though) are his eyes.


	17. Brown

**A/N:** Yea, this one made me sad. Enjoy, and please review! 

**EDIT: **Oh, haha, it seems one of my reviewers is smarter than me! Haha. The last two are NOT in order, as it would seem. I'm too lazy to reverse it or change it. So yea. Just so you know that _I _know and you're not like zuh?

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

Brown

After school, I walk to my tent. I leave the grey cement of buildings and city and walk through the forest that's filled with brown trees, brown animals, and brown earth. If it weren't for the leaves, I'd be completely surrounded by brown! If you think about it, brown is a very important color. It's almost everywhere!

* * *

It rains. My shoes squish along in the mud, leaving their imprint in the dirt. I stop to watch. The pattern of zigzags immediately pools with water. I turn around and continue to trot to my tent. My shoes gather clumps of mud on them, and I have to stop to occasionally scrape them off. It's annoying, but I can't help but sing and laugh and feel cheerful in the rain. I dance the rest of the way home, my hair flying in the air.

* * *

I'm in the Sohma home. I feel strange, not being surrounded by the usual green glow of my tent, or the brown earth beneath me or the brown trees beside me. It feels strange, sleeping on a mat in a house again. I don't know who changed me into a kimono. I don't think I really want to know.

My head is woozy. My fingers hurt. I don't want to open my eyes. I don't know what happened. I'm so tired…I feel so terrible. Where are my trees? The only brown I can see anymore is my hair. I miss the animals that make noises in the morning, snuffling at my tent or calling in the trees. I miss it. I want to go back. Get me out of here!

* * *

Oh no! My house! My home! My sanctuary…it's gone. All gone. Vanished. I can't see it anymore. All I see is earth. Mounds and mounds of dark, brown mud, oozing slowly. Hard bits occasionally tumble down to my feet. This is terrible. Horrible. I can't believe it. I _won't _believe it!

I immediately start to scrabble at the pile of brown earth. How could it do this? How could it destroy my home? My mom? Everything I own? I used to love the earth. I loved the way it filled with water when it rained, the way plants can grow from it, the way I could feel it beneath me when I slept in my tent. How can it destroy my home? What about the trees? Did they destroy it somehow too? Is this forest turning against me?

I cry. I cry hard. I feel like screaming, but I have to save mom first. She's leaving me again, she's leaving me! I hate this mud, I hate this earth! I hate the way this brown gunk is in my way. Move! _Move! _I need to save my mom! I don't understand…how did this happen? I feel sick. My head is heavy.

How can I save her?


	18. Black

**A/N:** I seem to be writing everything in first person point of view lately. I'll stop! I will. I promise. I swear on the hotness of Kyo, which is definitely saying something. And yea, let's pretend Haru used to go trick-or-treating ALL the time, okay? Yea, if they even did, haha. I NEEDED IT, OKAY? Actually, I didn't, but I want to stick in trick-or-treating.

PS: I need to stop updating so much. I'm not getting enough reviews, writing this much! Haha.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Black**

When I was little, people would always call me the dumb ox. The stupid cow.

Oh, look at you, with your stupid hair, chewing your cud!

Which, by the way, was normal food.

When are you are going to get stronger, huh? The ox is strong! It's powerful!

Yea, but it's also stupid! Hah! What kind of animal lets the rat ride it? Lets it get off first?

The ox, obviously!

Ooh, that poor dumb thing.

Then they would laugh and chuckle, and I guess they were just joking. But either way, it annoyed me. It made me, a small child, so angry it was almost embarrassing. I didn't want to react like that. I wanted to be strong, like the ox was strong. I could handle it. I could take it.

But one day, I cracked. I don't remember much, let alone anything. All I know is that some kids in my class were just getting on my nerves, and then—black. I vaguely remember throwing things, screaming children and the one boy who had bothered me on the ground, shaking…the next thing I knew I was in the principal's office; the classroom was in shambles and the kid now had a broken nose.

I didn't want that to happen. I didn't want to get angry, burst, and then see black. Feel nothing. Just…darkness. People started to nickname it The Dark Power. The Black. It soon morphed into "Black Haru" because I seemed to be the only person in the whole damn city who blacked out and turned into some kind of rampaging monster…some kind of angry ox.

I got used to it though. I even started to embrace it a little. Everyone had stopped talking about how dumb I was, how stupid. How weak and little I was. They began to talk about how powerful it seemed to be, having such strength hidden away. It was gifted, that was it. To be able to use such power and remember the strength, not remember the pain. They said it was a good thing. I listened to them.

One Halloween, I even dressed up as Black Haru. My mom was a little against it. Not like she cared, really. I just put on all these black clothes, painted whatever of my skin was black, and went trick-or-treating.

Trick-or-treat!

Ohhh, and what are _you _supposed to be?

Black Haru!

Oh…er…cute. What's Black Haru?

Rawrrrrr!

Aw! How sweet! Here, have this!

I just added in the cute little roar and they were always sold. But now, I look back and think…geez. That was stupid. Because really, two months later I hadn't turned Black in a long time. All the adults started to tease me again.

Oh yea, it was a fluke!

Never had a mite of power in him.

Was he lying or something?

Haha! He's always been stupid! I bet the rat kid is smarter than him!

That was it. I hated it. I hated it all. No longer was it "fun" to be different than everyone else. I was different enough without having blackouts of anger. So finally, I took out all my anger on him. I just…exploded.

But he calmed me down. He soothed me. I'll always love him for that.

And now I'm okay. Still Black, but I'm okay.


	19. White

**A/N:** Yea, white could be Tohru's dad. But you know what? I'm sick of writing about Tohru. Haha. And I love Ritsu so much! And it doesn't make much sense. Just go with the flow. (smile) 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**White**

Ritsu always liked the color white. It wasn't dreary, like black or brown, and it wasn't sore to the eyes, like neon pink or orange. It was a nice color—a simple color. A bit like Ritsu himself. Simple.

White. When Ritsu closed his eyes at night, he didn't see black—he saw white. White reminded him of clouds wafting almost sleepily across a blue sky. It reminded him of cold, fresh vanilla ice cream stacked neatly into a cone. It reminded him of the first dress he saw in Kagura's closet—the dress that made his mind think _try it on. It won't hurt. It's just a dress. It's not like you've got any other expectations to live up to._

He tried it on. Well, first, he had to ask Kagura if he could take it. She was younger. Only by a few years, but she was gullible enough to believe he wanted to use it for something else. Not to wear. Something else.

Ritsu ran home. The dress made him feel…better. More free—there seemed to be less to worry about. Ritsu wasn't complex. He didn't have multiple talents and hobbies to muddle and confuse his life. He was terrible at sports, and he was definitely no artist. He didn't get the best grades in school, and being the Monkey was bad enough without his lack of talents to add to the plate.

The dress was white. Ritsu was white. He felt it was a perfect match. He was a blank canvas—no interesting colors or patterns to paint about _his _life. He supposed there might be some black dots here and there, showing the disappointment his parents had in him. His mother's constant screams of forgiveness had been drilled into his mind. "I'm soorryyy! My son is worthless! Please **forgiiiiiiive **me!"

Worthless. Useless. Blank. Empty. White. They all meant the same to Ritsu.

So white made him think of happy, good things. White _also _made him think of bad things. White made him think about the first time he wore the dress and felt inexplicably happy.

White.

_White._

**White. **


	20. Colorless

**A/N:** I write this a lot differently then the rest of my writing. Probably because it's Arisa, and since it's Arisa I have to swear a bit. Haha, I don't like swearing or being crude. It's like, completely the opposite of me. But it's Arisa! I have to stay in character, man. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Colorless**

"Hehe…he…he…"

"_No way! That is SO not what I said!"_

"_It is too!"_

"_God! You think you're so cool? Well you're just a slut!"_

"_WHAT?"_

"Hehehe…"

Arisa rolled her eyes as she trudged through the front door of her apartment. The toe of her shoe ran into a garbage bag filled to the brim with trash. She sighed heavily. The entrance barely had room for her to squeeze around and close the door behind her.

"Dad, you forgot to take out the trash again!"

"Go away! Quit your yappin'!"

Arisa bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling at him. "God, go get yourself a real job, you lazy ass," she muttered, swerving her way around and through the bags of garbage. She slinked through the small hallway, which was boring and empty for all but the dust that was piling high on the ground. She passed her dad who was lying on the couch, completely drunk and laughing senselessly at some teen drama show. Arisa felt the urge to go punch some sense into him, but she stopped.

Arisa ripped off her mask, breathing the stale air through her mouth. She slipped the mask into a pocket of her long jacket and turned into the kitchen to make herself dinner.

There was nothing.

Sighing heavily, she turned around and saw a few yen on the table. Without a seconds hesitation she picked it up and stuffed it in her pocket. She collapsed into a chair and brought out a cigarette. She lit it and began to puff away frantically.

This was her life.

Her bland, boring, pathetic life.

And ever since she met that girl in the hallway, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"Hey! Do I smell smoke?" called a slurred voice from the living room.

"No!" Arisa lied, who continued to puff away. "Go to sleep!"

He seemed to listen to her orders, because a few seconds later she began to hear snoring from the living room. Disgusted, she stood up and ground her cigarette in the table. She left it there, ignoring the burn mark on the surface.

She ran to her room and shut the door behind her. It was just like the rest of the house. Empty, except for the garbage that cluttered it here and there. Arisa barely spent time in this house anyway.

She grabbed another pack of cigarettes from her bed and slipped out her door. She trudged through the hallway and made her way out the front door.

Outside, she slipped the mask on again, cracking her knuckles together.

What was she going to do now? Rob a store? Shoplift? Beat someone up? Or just hang out with her gang and smoke? Arisa didn't know. Arisa didn't care.

Her life was colorless.


	21. Friends

**A/N:** Once again, I'm trying to be "artsy" haha. Tohru is normal font, Arisa is italics, and Hana is bold. Mhm. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Friends**

I don't know what I'd be without Uo-chan and Hana-chan as my friends. They make my life so much brighter! I used to get teased so much as a little girl, and these two were my first real friends—that's something special that can never be taken away.

I love those girls with all of my heart. I try my hardest to make them happy, because _they _always make _me _happy. They made my life what it is today. I'd be so lost without my best friends. Uo-chan gave me strength. She gave me the eyes to see strength comes in all shapes and sizes. She's my wall to lean on—she's my safety.

Hana-chan was so sad before. Just looking at her made me want to fix her. I wanted her to have fun and a normal life. I hope I managed to give her one. I'm so glad to see her smiling—especially when I know _I _caused that smile.

Thank you Hana-chan. Thank you Uo-chan.

* * *

_I love my girls. I love them so much. They're the only real family I have. My mom gone, my dad's still a (recovering) alcoholic—I probably wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for them. I would have purged myself of this world long ago._

_Tohru was the first real person in my life. The first person to make me smile and to make me happy. She willingly took me into my home, made me feel safe and warm…it's wonderful. I love her. _

Saki's just—Saki. She's so different and so unique—I love her for those differences. She's so full of wisdom and logic. Without her I'd probably be jumping off cliffs every which way.

_Thank you Tohru. Thank you Saki._

* * *

**I was alone in this world. I was one with the shadows, one with the silence. I never spoke a word, nor did I ever wear a smile. I was alone. The only attention that was ever given to me was to hurt me, or tease me, or mock me. I lived through it all, even though I didn't want to.**

**And then that one lunchtime, I saw them both. I love them for calling me over and forcing me to sit down. I love them for being the only lights in my dark world. Tohru is just such a different person. She keeps such a cheery outlook on life, no matter the circumstance. It gives me hope…maybe _I _can strive to be like her one day. **

**Arisa's strength and demeanour has made me feel stronger myself. She is a girl all on her own—she, too, has led a painful life. I connect with her on that level. We've bonded over time. Our friendship is special.**

**All of my friendships are.**

**Thank you Arisa. Thank you Tohru.**

* * *

Thank you.

* * *

_Thank you.__

* * *

_

**Thank you.**

Fin


	22. Enemies

**A/N: **Kay man. I love this one. I think this is probably one of my favorites. (giggle) I don't mean to sound conceited. But I'm allowed to like my writing once in a while. Heehee. This is actually coming out of the jealousy I feel lately. HAHA. Odd how real life helps with these things, no? I purposely didn't shorten any words. Hohoho. And the words in italics aren't Akito's words, word for word. I morphed them quite a lot, haha.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Enemies**

You will hate him until you die.

But he will hate you even after _he_ dies.

It is a vicious circle. An endless circle. A circle that protects you. It keeps you safe from the harsh reality you are trying to hide from. You do not want to admit it. You cannot. You like hating him. You enjoy having an enemy—someone to take your insurmountable anger on. It pleases you.

But hearing him say that he hates you right back ticks you off. He is not supposed to hate you. _You _are the one with the right to hate him! You are the one that was forced into this ugly Zodiac form because of him! It is because of him you await a darker life. It is because of him you have a jealous monster inside of you, writhing and twisting and waiting until it can break free of the sacrificial beads.

He has no right to hate you. It was his animal that cheated you. Lied to you. It is he that deserves the punishment! It is the accursed _rat _that does not deserve to be perfect at everything he does. Why is that, anyway? What has he ever done to deserve such graces? He did nothing but trick you out of the Zodiac!

And yet…even though you feel that anger building inside of you, that deep loathing that cannot seep away, you think: just who is this anger meant for? Him…or myself?

It is a constant conundrum in your head. The circle protects you. Having a sworn nemesis is your life. Training day and night to beat said enemy keeps you healthy. It keeps you strong. You cannot imagine a life without the hatred you have the felt, the anger and the strength that continues to build up inside of you.

That is how you see it. Strength. Everything you do to get back at him only makes you stronger, even when you fail. You argue and you yell and you fight with the strength you believe you have—and you lose. You are used to it. Akito's words are starting to become a daily reminder for you. You cannot escape the truth.

_The rat is better than you. He is stronger. Wiser. More attractive. He is free of an evil spirit. He is everything you wish you could be._

_And so you hate him._

These thoughts whirl around in your mind. You try to fight them off. What is the use of having a conscious if all it does is babble nonsense at you? None of it is true! You hate him! You will hate him _forever _because of what he's done! What he _will _do! It is because of him you see yourself locked behind doors in the near future. It is because of him you were never _free _to begin with anyway. It is because of _him _you are this monstrosity! This mutant that does not even deserve to live!

You hate him. You hate him and you love to hate him and you feel good having a sworn enemy.

But you know you hate yourself even more.


	23. Lovers

**A/N:** Yea, so he's a bit jealous. He wants the nice fantastical clothing! (laughlaugh) I just had to wing it, because I need to post _something. _So…yea. Short note today. Enjoy! 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Lovers**

Ayame's shop had a purpose. Not many people realized it (or saw it at first when they entered), but it filled Ayame with a deep sense of pride and happiness.

He was a creator.

A magician.

Something out of a storybook.

Well, that's how he saw it anyway.

He was a designer for those in love. Males, females, somewhere in between—whoever it was, he created love for them.

Many people just didn't _understand _the work he did. Everyone saw it as something completely different—something deranged, flowering out of the mind of a man who belonged in a lunatic asylum. At times like these, Ayame could really only trust Mine—she worked alongside him without faltering once. She understood the passion Ayame had for his job.

Without him, love would not blossom into full bloom.

Without him, the fantasies of those dying without love would fall to the ground in defeat.

Without him, there wouldn't be fabric being sewn together beneath his fingers; there wouldn't be the joy in the eyes of his customers as he proudly displayed the choices for them.

Ayame liked to say he made the lovers rejoice. It was because of _him _there was another happy person (or people) out there in the world.

Only Yuki knew how Ayame felt to be creating something. While at the same time as being happy to sell his clothes, Ayame felt happy to know these things—this _love _wouldn't exist without him.

Ayame was happy.

She was happy.

He was happy.

_They _were always happy.

And everytime he began to sew a new creation, he tried hard not to think too much about himself. It was for them right?

Yes…

It was always for them.


	24. He

**A/N: **THIS IS IMPORTANT! Read this before reading ANY FURTHER!

Okay. So. I decided. I don't like going in order. There are some words on this chart I'd much rather work on then others. And I had this one prewritten, so I decided to post it now so I can tell you all now. I AM NOT GOING IN ORDER ANYMORE. So the word will be random. It won't be like, sky, sun, moon, clouds, etc. anymore. I'll probably write like sun, family, she, too much, etc. It'll just be random now. YAY for the random draw! READ THIS! Haha. So it's pretty messed up. It's all in order for a while, but suddenly it's like WHOA MAN way to totally be different now. Yea. It'll be a pretty messy table of contents. (shrug)

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**He**

_ I saw him then…ten days ago, where I worked at the convenience store…_

"Man, this two job thing is getting to be a big pain in the ass," I yawned, stretching my arms back behind my head. My two best friends, Saki and Tohru walked on either side of me.

"Why don't you just quit one?" Saki asked nonchalantly. I shrugged.

"Oh, Uo-chan, you couldn't possible do that!" Tohru cried, eyes wide. "Don't you want to raise money to help out your dad and pay for the food and cleaning and things? I think it's a very noble thing!"  
I looked down at Tohru and smiled; she could always make me smile. "Really? Noble, you think?"

Tohru nodded. I thought. I never really thought of anything I do as _noble. _I kind of saw it as selfish. But Tohru had a different way of looking at things.

"Well, here's my stop," I said, screeching to a halt in front of the convenience store. I sighed heavily, looking at its drooping posters for work and for churches and for all sorts of other organizations plastered all over the windows. It could really make a person sad.

"All right. Bye, Uo-chan!"

"Good-bye…"

My two friends drifted off, and I strode into the store, saying a small hey to the boy at the counter and going to the back to change into my clothes.

It was about thirty minutes later when he walked in. I had been busy shelving some small food items onto a shelf when I first noticed him looking around curiously; it was like a child at a candy store. It creeped me out a little bit. I mean, what person didn't know what a convenience store looked like?

But he intrigued me, with his large brown eyes and solemn face. It made me want to hug him. But why? He was a total stranger, probably someone I'd never see again. He made me shiver. That wasn't normal. What was _wrong _with me? I guess I had eaten too much for lunch again. Sometimes that happened.

Ten minutes later, I continuously saw his head bob in and out of shelves, behind and underneath racks of chips. I felt almost stupid for what looked like following him around in such a small store—but I just didn't want him to see me. I felt like a little girl again.

And just as I was trying to get my mind off of him by putting away some chips, he did the _one _thing Tohru did so long ago.

I guess it was what drew me to him in the first place. Maybe I just _knew _when I saw him walk in.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I didn't.

_That's when I met him. _


	25. Who?

**A/N: **Okay, I know in the 13th volume there's something about Momo and Momiji. But since I haven't read them, pretend this is BEFORE. Like, pre-Momo and Momiji storyline in volume thirteen. Okay? Please don't be like "Actually, that's not what she thought" or "she knew he was brother! DUH" or something like that. Words might make me anxious and or annoyed. So bwah. Leave me be. I wrote this at school. Haha! So I had to pick one of the words that _kind of _fit with it. Eh. Whatever.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Who?**

Who was he?

Momo heard rumors. Lots and lots of stories. They were different shapes and different lengths—different letters met to form different words. It didn't matter if they were slurred from the drink or spoken in the most prim of voices. The meaning was always the same.

Somewhere out there, Momo had a brother.

She didn't believe it. Not for a _second. _It didn't make any sense to Momo! Why would Momo's mommy and daddy have hidden a brother from her? She always wanted to ask Mommy, but Daddy always told her not to bother Mommy with questions—it might hurt her head.

So Momo never asked.

After Mommy had tucked Momo into bed at night, she would sometimes lay and blink up at the ceiling and think about the mysterious brother, whom she knew nothing about. Mommy didn't seem to know about the stories. Daddy always turned red and sweaty whenever someone brought up even the slightest hint about it.

Momo always watched. She'd stay quiet, taking it all in and digesting it for later. Momo wanted to hear the stories and the rumors, to see if they made sense.

But she didn't believe it. If Mommy didn't know, Momo didn't know. It was just how it went. But once in a while, Momo knew it would be really nice to have a brother. Sometimes she would try to image what he looked like—what he acted like. Would he protect Momo? Would he watch over her? Would Brother be like a guardian angel for Momo?

But where would Brother be? If he really _was _alive, why didn't he live with them? Sometimes she thought Brother was playing a trick, and she would peek behind trees or into rooms in their house. When no one was looking, Momo would get down on her knees and gaze under all of the tables and sofas.

But no one ever appeared.

Momo didn't believe she had a brother. Not for one _second. _

But on the off chance she did, she knew it would be really nice to have one.


	26. Breakfast

**A/N:** I really don't know if they had breakfast before this scene. You know what? STFU. Haha. That's my favorite thing to say in real life, but I say it like STAFOO. Er. Not that it matters. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Breakfast**

That one morning Kyo didn't eat Tohru's cooking hurt her a lot more than it should have.

She had cleaned the kitchen—it had taken almost all of the morning. Yuki was impressed. Tohru was glad he was. Honestly. When she cooked for the first time in the Sohma household, she was glad again to see Yuki sit down and eat her food. His compliments pleasantly surprised her.

But whom she _really _wanted to impress with the new and clean kitchen was Kyo. Who she _really _wanted to eat her food wasn't Yuki, but Kyo.

She loved the Cat. She'd be anything to be born in the Year of the Cat. His shunning her did nothing to make her happy. It shocked her. It hurt her. It scared her more than she ever let on. His snaps and biting comments burned themselves into her mind.

And she had barely known him two days.

Tohru wanted to impress him. She wanted to please him. The cheerful girl had put her heart and soul into that breakfast that one morning. She had no idea where Shigure had taken Kyo, but when he came back she wanted him to smile at her. She wanted him to praise her and eat and eat and eat until he slept.

She herself didn't really understand this need she felt deep inside of her. She wanted to please the Cat. Tohru wanted anything else but the Cat to _hate _her. Maybe cooking would do the trick.

But it hadn't changed a thing. He had come in yelling. Not a good start. Tohru had tried to pleasantly get him to eat the food. Maybe just hadn't noticed it yet. Maybe he was too busy with other things on his mind.

But his yell at her told her otherwise.

"_I'm not hungry!"_

Simple words. Easily comprehendible. But Tohru didn't like them. They hurt more than anything else he had said to her yet (which wasn't really much). He didn't want to be near here. He didn't want to see her, let alone sit at the same table as her! Oh no! Why had Tohru been so silly as to cook so hard? Yuki was happy. Shigure was happy. She shouldn't have cared so much.

Really. She shouldn't have.

It was just breakfast.


	27. Strangers

**A/N:** I actually got the idea for this a loooong time ago, but I didn't feel like writing until now! Haha. Hey, I also want to start a new story. Yea, go me. I don't know what about though. Does anyone have any ideas? 

**PS: **OMG! I've reached 100 reviews! AH! AH! AH! (hyperventilates) Thank you SO SO SO much, you guys! Ee! EEE. Yea. I think it's a big deal. Haha.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Strangers**

Strangers. That word was familiar to Mayu. It wasn't from all of the books she had read in her parent's bookstore. It wasn't from watching students in class sit alone; afraid to talk to the others they didn't know.

No, it had to do with that one man she wanted to forget so much that sometimes it hurt.

_Shigure Sohma. _

How long had they gone out for?

A long time.

Too long.

She desperately wished she could erase those memories. Those terribly empty memories that weren't filled with anything of importance. No happy smiles, no lovers touches.

Just…_nothing. _

If anyone wanted to look up the word strangers in a dictionary, beside the definition would be a picture of Mayu and Shigure, back to back, looking away from each other. Maybe Shigure's head would be hidden in a book; maybe Mayu would be crying. Either way, that's what they had been.

Perfect Strangers, pretending to be something they weren't.

"_So, how are things with you and Shigure-san?"_

"_Uh—they're okay, I guess."_

"_Has he—" a voice giggles. "Kissed you yet?"_

"_Ah. Well…yea. Lots."_

"_Oooh!"_

Hah. Yea right. Shigure barely looked at her, let alone kissed her. He didn't even hug her. The most he would do was sling his arm over her shoulder—and that was only when they were with people they knew. Other than that, it was only glances to her from his books.

Mayu preferred being away from him. Around Hatori, she was warm—around Shigure, she felt as cold as ice. Maybe it was because that was how he acted towards her. Either way, she wanted out of it. She wanted to leave Shigure Sohma and his terrible ways behind. She hated him. Really. Honestly. She did.

But Mayu didn't do anything about it.

Instead, she sat by the window. She watched as Hatori and Kana laughed and talked. She felt like she was there. She felt like she could be _Kana. _

Tug.

"_What?"_

"…_Nothing."_

"_Hm. All right then."_

Nothing. That was it.

Mayu blew on the glass of the window, letting her breath fog up the pane. It proved how cold it was in there. How cold it was between _them. _They were strangers—they always would be.


	28. She

**A/N:** ZOMG I GOT THE TWELFTH FURUBA! AAH. HAHAA. But yea. OMG I'M SO HAPPY! Anyway, this is from the twelfth book. Not much of a spoiler, just a little cute memory. WHOSE memory, though? 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**She**

She runs down the hill, laughing. The long grass blows past as she runs, stumbling numerous times as she does so. But she' s so little that it doesn't even bother her anymore. There is a breeze in the air, and the sun is shining down on her.

In her left hand she clutches a small book. She giggles shrilly as she continues to run down the sloping hill. She stops halfway down, and then turns around to face the top of the hill. There's a small figure standing above her, just a shadow.

"Come down!" she calls. "Don't worry, they won't be able to find us back here!"

"Are…Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she cries, smiling. "I'm positive! So come down!"

The little boy picks up his feet and runs. She watches with the simple amusement of a small child. He begins to laugh, and she laughs with him. Suddenly, he gives off a scream as he trips and begins to tumble. She watches, open-mouthed, as his small body rolls down the hill, bouncing and bumping all over the place.

"STOP!" she screams, her knuckles turning white on the book. "STOP ROLLING! IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

As if listening to her commands, the boy comes to a gentle stop at her feet. He's bruised and dirty, and his jacket is ripped. His hair is ruffled, and it looks like tears have fallen down his cheeks.

"Oh no, look at you," she coos, pulling a handkerchief out of her back pocket. She wipes his face with it, and he gives a small sniffle.

"What's that?" he asks quietly, pointing at the book that lies beside her feet. She glances over.

"A book I was reading when we were in the garden."

"Oh."

She wipes away his tears with the small square of cloth. "Does anything hurt?"

He ignores her question. "Will you read it to me?"

She pauses, handkerchief a few inches away from his face. "I guess," she replies uneasily, stuffing the cloth back into her pocket. Bending down, she picks up the book and sits beside him, one leg stretched out lazily and the other tucked closely to her body. The boy immediately wraps his arms around his legs and watches her with his intense eyes.

She coughs. "Are you sure nothing's broken?"

"Yes."

"And you want me to read?"

"Yes."

"Even though we could have just read in the Estates?"

"_Yes._"

She smiles warmly at the small boy. His eyes are wide and he's watching her hands as they open the book. It's almost like he has never had the pleasure of listening to someone read to him. Have his parents ever done such a thing?

The sun is shining; the birds are singing; the grass is swaying beside them, tickling their skin. She begins to read with exuberance, and the boy, enthralled, doesn't make a sound. She's never had anyone pay so much attention to her before.

She is happy.


	29. Diamond

**A/N: **I love Kyo! Haha. This is just a lot of blabber. The point takes awhile to get to, haha.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Diamond**

It seemed like everything was sparkling today. Dew on the grass glittered in the growing sun's rays and bird's silvery feathers flashed into his eyes as they flew above him. Heck, even the flowers coruscated in the growing light.

He rubbed at his eyes. He rarely went to the dojo so early in the morning, but there was nothing to do back at home—not to mention Yuki had been getting in his face all morning about what he did and didn't do.

Kicking at a stray pebble, Kyo muttered obscenities under his breath. It was too early to be grumbling at everything. It was also too early for his eyes to ache, but they were. Wherever he looked, something gleamed and flashed in his eyes.

Squinting, he walked through the back alley he always took to the dojo. It was his favorite shortcut, and it led out onto a main street were stores lined the sides and cars honked and rolled past him.

Soon he was striding past the stores, looking idly in all of the store windows.

It was then he saw it. There was such a brilliant flash in his eyes he threw his hand over his face, trying to shield the radiant light. Blinking rapidly and shaking his head, he took a few steps back from the window. Then he lowered his arm and looked carefully to where the flash had come from. He was sure it was just his eyes—it had been happening all morning, after all.

He let out a mortified gasp at what his eyes led him to see. No. _No way._ Was it a sign? An omen? Some kind of hint?

It was a ring. A giant, luminescent golden ring with one huge diamond placed on the top. Well, okay, maybe it wasn't _huge_, but a ring that fancy meant only one thing—it was an engagement ring.

For no apparent reason, Kyo felt his face heating up. He knew he was blushing, glaring at the ring silently. Why had it blinded him? Was it trying to talk to him?

"_NO. WAY,_" he hissed angrily, making sure no one walking past could hear him muttering to the window. "Not in a million years! No way. No way. No. Way."

But for the rest of the day, the image if the ring followed him around wherever he went. But instead of sitting on an elegant velvet cushion, it sat on the smooth, pale finger of a girl he loved very much.


	30. Christmas

**A/N:** Haha! I made this for Christmas at the Sohma home! Cheesy but amusing. Who's who? Gasp! You'll have to find out. Happy Holidays, all of you! For whatever Christmas-y holiday you celebrate. And if you don't, well, have fun off of school or work! (laugh) 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Christmas**

"Merry Christmas everyone!"

"Merry Christmas, Honda-san."

"Merry Christmas, my little flower!"

"Eh."

"Um—so! I bought presents for everyone!"

"Are you serious?"

"You didn't have to. Honestly."

"So what did you get me? Huh? Huh? Huh?"

"Here, let me go get them! Excuse me, Shigure-san—"

"Gasp! Tohru-kun, what's this?"

"What's what?"

"Look! Up there!"

"…You have _got _to be kidding me."

"WHAT THE _HELL, _SHIGURE?"

"Oh! Um…Um…mistletoe! It's very pretty!"

"Just come a bit closer, hmm?"

"GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU PERVERT!"

"Come on Honda-san. Let's get away from them."

"Oh! But Yuki-kun, what about the presents?"

"It's all right. Just wait until Shigure leaves the doorway."

"Um—Um--!"

"Oowww! Kyo-kuuuun! Stop being so mean!"

"Well if you weren't so SICK, I wouldn't HAVE to punch you!"

"You know you're just…jealous."

"WHAAAAAT? DON'T WINK AT ME! THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

"Look! Now _you're _under the mistletoe, Kyo-kun!"

"…_I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!_"

"This is so stupid…"

"Um, Yuki-kun?"

"Yes, Honda-san?"

"…Merry Christmas?"


	31. Star

**A/N:** I needed to write one. Really. I'm sorry. But I needed to. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Star**

She's so close. I can hear her breathing, see her white, smiling teeth. I can even smell the shampoo she uses, we're so close. My heart is beating wildly, and I feel the box just screaming to be opened.

"Yuki-ku--!" she suddenly cries, stumbling over my name and stopping me from uttering words I'm too afraid to speak. I had been on the verge, taking in air…but she had stopped me. I don't know if that's good or bad.

"Yuki-kun…a shooting star!" she tugs on my shirt, and I start at the touch, but she doesn't seem to notice. She's pointing to the sky, excited. I look up, but see nothing but far off blinking orbs of light.

"It's a shooting star! Look up there, I'm sure of it!"

I'm looking, but I see nothing.

"Ah! See? There's another one!"

I look this time, and am startled to see something white shoot across the sky, spinning away from our sight. I blink, and the sky is dark again.

"Did you see it!"

I hesitate. "Yeah," I finally answer. I saw it. It was beautiful, and for some reason made my chest swell with feeling.

"Wasn't it pretty!" she asks again, and I'm surprised she can get so excited over such a little thing. But deep inside, I know. I know I have to do something.

The shooting star had surged ahead—and so will I. Taking a breath, I finally allow a corner of the lid—just a corner—to open.


	32. Fire

**A/N:** You have to remember you'll be getting mostly these guys out of me! I'm sorry. But not really! And I'm into writing little short things lately. Leave me be, but please review! 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Fire**

She feels her toes heating up at the first touch of his lips against her forehead. It is small, really—tiny. But his lips move down to her own, and she feels a fire leap up the length of her legs and into her middle faster than she can count to one. She closes her eyes, enjoying the kiss and enjoying the fire that rages throughout her body.

He kisses her again and again, sometimes on the lips, sometimes on the neck. One time he pulls away to kiss her hands, which are clasped tightly together.

She hears her ragged breathing as she stands apart from him at a safe distance. She immediately feels embarrassed at what just went on between them. But even as they stand there, breathing heavily, she can't help but continue to feel that fire raging inside of her. It won't leave her. It wants more, but she knows they can't go any further.

"I—I'm sorry," she says, flustered. "This is so unlike me, I didn't—"

He silences her with another kiss. She gasps, but immediately melts into it, grabbing at his shoulders for support. The fire seems to be burning her up; she feels terribly weak at the knees.

"Don't be sorry," he whispers to her huskily. She nods, almost nervously, afraid to object. She doesn't want to. She never wants this to end. It's wrong, it's terrible, but…she can't help it.

So many things about this moment are fiery: her legs, her arms, her mind, her blurred thoughts, the room around them…his hair.


	33. If

**A/N:** It's been awhile. XD Finally I had to ask my sister to point at a word and then I wrote about it. I like how it came out. A little, anyway. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**If**

_Talk to me._

If only I could.

_Walk with me._

If only I could.

_Hug me._

God, if only I could.

I can't. I can't see you; hear you; feel you. You're slowly being erased from my memory, bit-by-bit, day-by-day. I don't want to see you leave. I _can't. _If I could escape, if I could live a free life, I would chase after you until my lungs burst. I wouldn't let you run away. I wouldn't let you be with anyone but me. I don't want you whispering comforting words through a darkened door to anyone else. I don't want you bringing food to anyone else. I don't want anyone else to be able to lean against the door and listen to your quiet breathing as you fall asleep on the other side.

If I weren't the Cat I'd be with you in a heartbeat. If I weren't locked behind this door for the rest of my life my hand would never leave yours. If I weren't cursed, I would hug you close.

If I weren't cursed, would you love me? Would you free me? Your midnight whispers aren't enough. I know you do it out of kindness. You used to come once a day. Then you came every two days or so. Now it's only once a week.

Soon it will stop altogether. And I'll be heartbroken.

If I were strong enough I would ram this door down into oblivion. I would fight Akito and win. I would race home and grab you. I would never let you go. But I'm weak; I admit it. I'm terrible. I'm selfish. I'm horrible. I'm worthless. I don't deserve your love, so it's a good thing you come less and less. It's a good thing you're slowly forgetting me.

Even if your image is erased from my mind, your presence can never leave me. I'll always remember your words, your voice. I'll always remember the words that so easily slipped from your mouth, but shocked me.

_I love you!_

No you don't. You never did. You loved the Cat. You didn't understand. That was the first day we talked. You didn't understand. Even now, you don't understand. You continue to think that by some chance I'll be freed. I'll be saved. Akito's frozen heart will melt and he'll allow me to be free.

No. That's not how it works. I wish it did, but it doesn't.

If I were free, I would love you forever.


	34. Fall

**A/N:** I was actually writing a different drabble when this idea came. Just…BAM I need to do Kureno and Arisa! So I hurriedly looked up a word, and TADA. This one totally caught my eye. I meant to make it more fluffy-ish. But it's pretty hard to be fluffy with Kureno, considering he's all errr I'm silent and mysterious at least up to where Kristen has read muahaha! 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Fall**

"Be careful—"

His warning was useless as the girl let out an uncharacteristic shriek. Her body fell to the floor with a loud thump, and the food that had been piled in her arms flew in all directions, banging into racks and falling limply to the floor.

His eyes twinkled with silent mirth as he walked up to her. He peered down at her face, which was grimaced in pain. She blinked, and he saw her eyes widen at the sight of his face.

"Surprised?"

"A—A little," she answered, flustered. She sat up automatically, averting her eyes from him as she began to gather the food.

"Here, let me help," he volunteered in his gently voice.

"Oh—ah—no, it's all right, honestly. You don't have to help."

Kureno placed his hand on hers, holding it in the air for a moment before pulling it back from the bag of chips. "Let me help," he repeated, his lips close to her ear. He felt her shiver and draw her hand back.

"Well, if you really want to," she managed to stutter out, shrugging. He let out a tiny grin as he began to slowly and methodically pick up the bags that had fallen on the ground. Arisa began to grab the items that had fallen onto shelves and further down the aisles. "Lucky no one else is here, eh?" she asked, chuckling. Kureno murmured in agreement, and the two fell into silence once again.

He set the bags on the counter just as Arisa came up from behind it. The two stared at each other, unblinking.

"I was just…uh…getting the…mop…" Her sentence was left hanging in the air as Kureno leaned his elbows on top of the counter, his chocolate hair falling to the side of his well-chiselled face. He saw a glimmer of uneasiness in her eyes. He took her hand. Her eyes widened. The silence became even heavier, making it hard for both of them to breath. Kureno felt his heart quickening; their hands never left each other's grasp.

"Why are you here?" she choked out. Kureno blinked, taking the question steadily.

"I got another day off," he replied easily. She nodded jerkily, and he smiled again; he smiled what he knew she thought of a true smile. Kureno saw a wavering grin appear on her own lips, and before she could object he came closer across the counter, using his other hand to hold her neck. He kissed her lightly on the lips, so lightly it might not have even happened. He heard her gasp, felt her twitch. But then he pulled away seconds later, and she looked confused. Had it happened? She was probably wondering.

Yes. It had.

"Goodbye," he whispered softly, smiling. She could only watch him, wide-eyed, as he left the store feeling rather proud of himself.


	35. Teammates

**A/N: **Now is it teammates or team mates? Or even team-mates? Because the table said teammates. Eh. This one amuses me. I don't think it's supposed to. xD All well. I'm having fun. I wrote like, three other ones (mostly in multimedia, oops), but I don't really like any of them. Bleeck. Ah well. That's beside the point!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Teammates**

They never get along. It used to be a deep loathing, so deep in fact, that they wouldn't even look at each other; talk to each other. They couldn't be in the same room for more than ten seconds, and whenever they were one always left—silently, abruptly, angrily—because the room always got silent and still when both were there.

They're enemies. Even though they live in the same house now, that doesn't change a thing. They've only been living together for a little while. There has been enough time to realize how much they hate each other, and how much they only stand one another because of Shigure and Tohru.

She's gone. Shigure sits at the table, puffing on his cigarette and flicking his fan on the tabletop almost nervously. He is unlike himself, unable to make a witty joke or even get up to go to his study and write. 

Yuki sits against the open doorway, his spine aching from sitting there for too long. But he doesn't move. He feels no need to move. The house is completely still and silent; just like old times. Uncomfortable though. Lonely.

Kyo's legs are pulled up tight to his chest, and his hands are slapping his knees repeatedly. He does nothing to cover the angry expression that sits permanently on his face. All of them are silent. Irate.

"We need to go get her," Shigure says abruptly. Kyo's knee-slapping ceases; Yuki risks a small glance at his older cousin.

"Do we?" he asks quietly. Calmly.

"Well at least she kept us moving," Kyo mutters, his head falling back on the wall with a dull thump. His cat eyes meet with Yuki's for a mere second, and then both look away. But both understand what they must do: the unthinkable. The impossible. The crazy.

They will have to work together.

It takes them seconds to silently grab their jackets and shoes. Shigure blinks, oblivious to the silent agreement that passed between the two teens.

"Uh—where are you…" his questions drifts off as the two barge out the door and out onto the street, their backs stiff with resigned determination.

They will get her. And they will bring her back.


	36. How?

**A/N: **Wow, it's been awhile. XD I'm busy with midterms right now, so I've been studying in most of my spare time. I have to study tonight too, but I suddenly felt like I needed to write a drabble. BAM here it is.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**How?**

_If you want to get on her good side, cut back on the remarks._

How do you to know what I want?

_Love…you cannot love. You are incapable of it._

How do you know what I'm capable of?

_Do you feel…lonely? Don't worry dear, things will be okay._

How do you know what I feel?

_Let's play!_

No.

_Your attitude is terrible! _

I think it's just fine.

_How do you make friends?_

I don't.

_How do you live with such a tongue?_

It's easy. I can do it. I _can. _Don't doubt me; it'll come back to bite you if you do.

_Hiro-chan…what's wrong?_

Nothing! NOTHING is wrong! Just leave me alone, all of you! I'm fine! How do you know what I feel? What I want? What I like? You don't! You can't! You don't know me, _no one _knows me! None of you! Leave me alone. Go away. I'm sick of all of you trying to make me feel better. Who cares if I'm mean? Who cares if I'm rude? If that's who I am, that's who I am! No one's going to change me! Nothing's going to change me!

**…**

But if I _wanted _to change…if I felt like I _needed _to change…how could I do it?


	37. Dark

**A/N:** This was written in multimedia class, so excuse spelling mistakes and boring word usage, haha. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Dark**

Hana was a dark person; she admitted it. She wasn't afraid to parade around in drab, hot, black clothing. She wasn't afraid to stare deep into someone's soul, so much so that the next day they told all their friends about 'that freak Hanajima.'

Hana was dark, and she knew it.

It wasn't so terrible that she was consumed by it. She hated metal music, and when she painted (a hobby of hers) she enjoyed painting calm, green forest scenes rather than the expected blue or black death scenes. Hana felt warmth blossom in her body when she spent time with her family, who had worked so hard to make her life comfortable and full of love. She felt like the missing piece of a puzzle who had found its spot in the picture when she spent time with her two best friends. And even now, when they spent time with the Sohma children, she didn't feel too angry about that. Many years ago she would have felt anger flaring up, jealousy burning within her. But now that the voices had stopped screaming, she felt more at peace with her life. She could accept things easier now, although she was still on the prowl around those two boys; who knew what they could do to Tohru?

So even though her life used to be an endless, black vortex that had been dark and only dark, things had lightened. Family, friends, a clear mind…all of these helped to paint her dark life a bit brighter each day. No longer was she a mostrous black, eyes small and trained on her shoes, hair let down to cover her eyes; Hana was a pale shade of grey, because although she had found happiness darkness seemed to find its way inside of her more often than not. She didn't know if it was because being alone and in the dark was comforting feeling, having felt it for most of her life, or if it was because the dark enjoyed her presence. Maybe it knew that one day she would snap, and all the light things in her life would drain out of her body and into the air, floating off to some unknown existence. Hana was always scared such an event would occur. She believed that not everything could be justified by science; the voices in her head had been a clear example of that. Maybe the darkness that seemed to like her so much was something else no scientist could explain.

And maybe, just maybe, Hana enjoyed the darkness a little bit too.


	38. Too Much

**A/N:** It's 11:30 at night, I'm not tired in the least, and I suddenly realized that I haven't written these two EVER. It made me sad. I really have no idea where this is coming from. I tried. Really.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Too Much**

"Toooooooohruuuuu!"

A young girl of about fourteen poked her head out from behind a wall, glancing over at the woman who was dragging herself across the room towards her, arms raised.

"Mama wants foooooood!" Tohru squealed as her mom's body draped on top of her, arms enveloping her in a warm hug.

"Mom!" she cried, feeling the weight of her mom pull them both down to the floor, crashing into each other. Tohru blinked, dots flashing in her vision. Her mom's body still lay on top of her, and she felt it hard to breathe.

"Mom, I'm making dinner," she managed to choke out. Kyoko's body perked up immediately. She swung herself up, sitting cross-legged in front of her daughter excitedly.

"Really? Supper for your mama?"

Tohru wiped her hands on the apron she wore out of habit as she kneeled up. "Yes!" she cried, giggling. "Why were you so tired when you came in?" Kyoko followed Tohru into the kitchen, where a pot of water was simmering gently. Kyoko looked into it, frowning and ignoring Tohru's question.

"There's no food in here!"

"Well, not yet, I have to get the vegetables and everything else out first!"

Kyoko shrugged, slinging an arm over her daughter's shoulders as she diced a carrot. "I'm so happy to have you," she crowed, resting her cheek on top of Tohru's head. Tohru blushed, dicing the carrot faster.

"I'm happy to have you too, Mom."

"I'd be lost without you, you know."

"…I know."

"I mean, how would I eat? I'd be starving!" Kyoko clutched a hand to her stomach as she glanced at the empty pot again. Tohru sighed, glad to see her mom turning back to her old joking self.

"Only a little bit longer, Mom."

Kyoko grumbled something under her breath, grabbing juice from the fridge. "Maybe I should just teach you how to cook," Tohru stated, grinning in spite of herself. Kyoko made a strangled noise.

"Me? Cook? Never! I tried it when you were a baby, but without your father's help…" Kyoko's voice drifted off into silence. Tohru didn't pay any attention at first, until she heard her mom sliding down the floor. She looked back, startled; to see her mom's forehead resting on raised knees as she sat at the base of the fridge. Tohru laid the knife down hurriedly, rushing to bend by her mother's side.

"Mom?" she asked hesitantly, gripping her arm. Kyoko occasionally did this; happy one minute, depressed the next. It didn't happen often, but when it did…it scared Tohru. So much.

"I just—I miss him!" Kyoko raised her head, tears streaming down her face. Tohru gasped quietly and wiped a tear off of her cheek. Kyoko sniffed loudly. "I don't mean to do this…I don't…it's just—I don't know why…" Kyoko let out a sob, and Tohru shushed her calmly, resting her head against Kyoko's shoulder as she sat down beside her. "It's just…too…much—sometimes…"

For a while, the only noise was Kyoko sniffing, trying to get herself under control. Then Tohru began to hum. She closed her eyes and squeezed her mom's arm tighter, humming a familiar lullaby her mom always used to sing to her. Kyoko seemed to recognize it, because in a few moments her feeble hums mixed in with Tohru's until it was just the two of them, humming softly to try and erase the pain.


	39. Heart

**A/N:** This one is…different. But I decided, heck, since it's Valentine's Day, you might as well get a little heart fic! Yay! I'll give you one clue…well, hopefully there's enough in it anyway. I'm telling you now, not a Sohma or one of the main trio. All right then. This is a long one! I got way into it. XD

**PS:** All three characters mentioned ARE from the book. I just twisted them a little. Meep!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Heart**

A heart is a fragile thing. Sure, it pretends to be tough, but at the slightest upturn of the nose from the one you try to impress, it cracks. Just a little…but it cracks.

You try to mend it again, soothing it and taping it and promising it that everything will work out. You two are destiny. Fate. Happiness. Love. Those words together describe the both of you. And yet, you feel your heart, trembling and shaking and praying, just _praying, _that things will work out.

Sometimes your heart controls you more than your mind. More often than not that's the case. But it has never shattered before. It has never been broken. No one you have cared enough about has ever done that to your heart.

_You _are usually the one breaking hearts. This time, it's a complete and total disastrous experience. You never want to feel it again.

You see him smile at someone else other than you.

The crack widens. You try to close it, protect it, shield it away from the evil in front of you, but there's no soothing it to safety this time.

And then you try to waggle your way into his life, walking home with sometimes or inviting him out to a coffee. He refuses most of the time, and you wonder why. That crack quakes, begging to burst. But you force your heart to fall silent. It's nothing big. It means zilch.

And then you see him walking home that same day with a different girl. _That _girl, the one that he seems to be obsessed with. She's all he thinks about. You realize it then. Your heart is trembling, beating quickly, trying to survive but failing miserably at the attempt. You fall, limp, to the ground. Your heart is pounding, your vision growing faint. You feel nothing but emptiness, nothing but a cold hand clenching at your heart, squeezing it, begging it to rip and tear and fall to pieces…

This hand—this hand that seems to represent lost love—is stronger than you are. Your heart shatters, right there, after you realize that he will never notice you _like that. _You feel your lips trembling and tears fall at a steady pace, making your eyes all red and puffy and your nose pink. Your heart is lying on the ground, broken, its pieces scattered so far away that you know you will never be able to reach them. It is impossible. Unthinkable. You will sit here for the rest of your life and cry, trying to piece the puzzle of your heart back together over time.

You know it won't work.

And then he comes over. Smiling, laughing, he thinks it's a joke. He doesn't understand. When you refuse to move, to lift your head, you hear him fall silent. He bends down and tries to peel your arms away from your head. Nothing works. He doesn't understand that you just lost your true love. That sweet, quiet boy is the man you want to live with for the rest of your life…

And now he is gone.

The boy doesn't leave. He has stopped tugging at you, and instead tries to speak to you. Without your heart, you can't feel the pain that reflects off of his voice. Without your heart, you can't realize just how worried about you he is. Without your heart, you are incapable of understanding his love for you.

He holds you in a tight hug, all traces of usual happiness gone. You are surprised to be in his arms. The two of you have always joked around, but this is serious. You can feel it. But how? Your heart is broken. Gone.

He holds you tighter, shakily stroking your soft ebony hair. You sniff, clutching to him, feeling safe and comfortable in the warmth of his arms. You hear his heart beating in his chest, and that's when you realize…you can pick up the pieces. You can fit them back together again. It will be a slow process, but now you understand…

There are others who love you. Don't let your heart go to waste.


	40. Where?

**A/N:** Okay, okay, no one guessed it. I guess I made it a bit stupid though. But then again, the coupling was just wack. Fwee! Okay, okay. Man girl is obsessed with is Yuki. Main Girl, or "you" is Kimi! And guy who loves her in the end is Kakeru! Yay! I love shipping those two, meep! 

For this one, I don't care if it's inaccurate. Only on Volume 12 here, people! So yea. The end.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Where?**

Lights…lights are everywhere. They're blinking and flashing at me, even though my eyes are closed. They won't open. My head feels like it's been split in two, it hurts so much. My limbs…my body isn't even there. All I feel is this sort of numbing pain…it's strange. I've never felt it before.

Murmurs. Yells. The squeaking of wheels. I feel wind brush past my face, lifting my bangs, as if I'm flying…on my back? I can't remember anything.

Where _am _I?

A voice beside my ear is steadily getting louder. I shudder slightly. I feel cold. I feel hot. I feel like I need to cry, but already I feel something dripping down my face. It's too thick to be tears.

…

_Blood?_

I panic. I want to scream. To yell. To jump and run. But still I fell strapped down by some sort of invisible weight.

Then, like a gunshot, the voice is crystal clear. "BANDAGES! Dear Lord, what does it take for you people to get to WORK?"

Bandages? Would I need bandages for my blood? I suddenly feel eerily calm. It's like some sort of puzzle. I've always liked puzzles. How am I bleeding? Why? What happened? Where is everyone? And again, where am _I?_

The squeaking is louder. I realize I'm lying on my back. The wind is getting stronger. I veer around a corner. How am I moving? My body is obviously still. I struggle, trying to blink my eyes open. They are caked closed with something. I finally manage to crack one eye open, and all I see is bright light and a red haze. I want to scream. This is me! This is my body! What's wrong with it? What happened to me?

"Her hair is too long! We should cut it. YOU! MOVE! YOU'RE IN THE WAY!"

"Cut that gorgeous hair? You're crazy! Just push it aside!"

"Fine, but you'll be sorry when we can't fix her up!"

Stop…stop talking about me like that. I'm here. I can hear you. I'm not dead or anything…not yet, anyway. And don't cut my hair! If you do, I'll kill you. It took me years to grow out.

The moving has stopped. The wind is gone. The squeaking is silent. I blink and mumble. The voices pay no attention. Where am I? I want to ask. Tell me! Tell me where I am! Tell me what's happened!

"She's in bad shape…"

"I _know _she's in bad shape! Get the needle for God's sake!"

…Needle? "…N…n…o…" I hear myself mumble through cracked lips. I don't think I speak loud enough. Rustles. Shouts. Swinging doors. Beeping. Noises. Flashing lights.

I feel something digging in my arm. The needle. I try to open my eyes again, but they're heavy now. Everything is black…black…the noises are fading, the blinking is gone…

I am asleep.

* * *

I wake up many hours later. I'm aching. I'm sore. I feel pain everywhere. Unlike earlier, it isn't numbed. It's there, full blast, shooting through my body. I try to scream, but find I'm still unable to do so. Let me _throw _something!

All is silent. I still don't know where I am. I still don't know what's going on.

"Rin?" asks a breathless voice. I shudder. A voice…one I recognize. Haru. I almost cry with relief as I feel for his hand blindly. He grabs my own, speaking softly. I feel tears brimming in my eyes, but I hold them down. He's here…someone I know is here with me.

And as I hold his hand and listen to his voice, everything comes back. A huge weight is lifted off of my shoulders as the past comes flying back. Everything there, in front of me…and I shudder again, letting out a small sob. Haru hears it though, and squeezes my hand tightly.

I don't do anything. I lay there, limply, numb, lifeless. What _can _I do?

It's all hopeless now.


	41. Sunrise

**A/N:** This is a bit different than how I normally write. I'm reading _A Million Little Pieces_ right now and it's influencing me too much. I hope you all like it! I did. Meep.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Sunrise**

For my training, I go out on runs. Morning runs, afternoon runs, evening runs. Run, run, run. Everyone gets it, everyone knows where I am if I'm not home.

_Oh, Kyo's not home? Then he's out running._

Run, run, run.

I'm running right now. I'm breathing heavily and my hair is sticking to my head and sweat is pouring down my face and damn, I'd kill for a drink of water. Just to pour it over my body and drink it up and soak up the coolness and just lay. Lay in the grass and try to breathe and think.

Think about her.

Think about the mountains.

Think about Shishou.

Think about the rat.

Think about Akito.

Think about water.

Think about my future.

My future. My end. My death. I run and I run and I run to try and get stronger. Being stronger will mean I can defeat Yuki. Defeating Yuki will make me a true Zodiac. I won't be an outcast any longer. If I run and run and run I will destroy him. I'll rip him to shreds and toss him in the bushes and laugh. Laugh with happiness, laugh with sadness, laugh as all the anger and pain are lifted from my shoulders and I'm weightless.

Weightless.

Like there's such a thing.

The moon is just falling behind the hills. Shafts of sunlight are poking through the canopy of trees, hurting my eyes but warming my skin. Run, run, run. I don't stop. There's no rest for me. There never was, there never will be. It's always work harder, work longer, get stronger, don't quit, if you quit you die. If you quit you'll see a room and nothing else except for Akito's ugly face coming to sneer and taunt you. You won't see her anymore. You'll be faced with a life of non-existence.

Empty.

Run.

I get to the edge of woods. I'm standing on a hill, panting, sweating, steaming, breathing. I stop running and just stare own at the city below. I see smoke, smog, houses, water left over from last night's rain shower. I see cars driving by, I see people walking or riding bikes and I stand there and I look and watch and realize I'll never have that life. I'll never walk or ride bikes or drive cars. I'll never have a family. I'll never have a real job and I'll never beat Yuki and I'll never be a part of the Zodiac.

So when people think I'm out running, out getting stronger, I'm actually falling to me knees and I'm crying, crying at the realization that I will never live. Run, run, run. Cry, cry, cry. The sun is shining down on me and my body is warm, but not my heart. The sunrise should indicate a new day, a new happiness. It brings me dread. One day closer to my death. My doom. My lifeless existence.

I'm not getting stronger when I run. I'm crying, crying, crying, and I'm getting weaker.


	42. Broken

**A/N:** Random idea that came a day later than the last! Haha. This is dedicated to SunMoonAndSpoon, because they said they wanted an Akito fic. Tada! 

**PS:** OMG I REACHED TWO HUNDRED REVIEWS! Yay! This is amazing! The most reviews I've ever gotten! Thank you guys _so much. _God I love you all for you encouraging and comforting words. They've helped me continue this dreadfully long story idea, heehee!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Broken**

You broke him.

You broke him, and it felt _good. _

You shattered him into tiny pieces. His soul, his heart, his entire life…just gone. Because of _you. _You love that you have that power. You love that you can hurt people not only with flying fists and kicking legs, but with words so strong and sickly it crushes their very bodies into oblivion.

You broke him like a glass vase, and you hated it. But it felt good. You hated why you had to hurt him. His reasons, his questions, all so foul and useless and against everything you've ever believed in and hoped for. He was fighting your control, something _no one _should ever do. He was the first of many…he set a terrible example for the others. Running out, going to schools with girls…even the younger ones loosened from his grasp.

Because of _him._

So that's why it felt so damn good to break him. You knew this would lead to others and you knew it would be their downfall. They would all die without you. They would all crumble without your strong arm leading them. You weren't keeping them all herded in the estates for yourself…it was for _them. _For _tradition. _For _safety. _

You've hated him ever since he asked you. You pretend that you love him and you pretend that you care about his opinions and his words. But everytime he comes into the room, you loathe him. You remember the question and you feel that familiar fury building inside of you. That fury that had been a part of you since the womb. The fury that caused you to slap and punch and kick and scream. The fury that saved them, the fury that broke them. It was all the same.

How could he ask you such a thing? Even remembering burns your heart. You remember the screams, you remember the punching and the blood and the tears. Not only your own, but his as well…and that _girl's. _That girl you placed all of the blame on because, you know it in your heart, it was all her fault. She gave him false hope, being together with him like that. You knew something had been happening, but you had also been hoping it would go away. When it didn't, you unleashed all of your anger out on him, and he bled and he cried and you knew, truly knew, you had broken him.

Two days later, he destroyed her memories. He destroyed them because you had dirtied them. You had poisoned them and stained them. You had done what had to be done. He seemed to understand, because he never once turned on you. You ruined him and yet he still served you, fixing you and healing you and ignoring the fury that sometimes leaked out when the two of you were together.

You tell yourself the same thing over and over, not only because it is true but also because you need it so you know that he is still as docile as a lamb.

You broke him because he _needed _to be broken. He needed to see the right path, and you led him to it.

Forget names. Forget Hatori and Kana and Shigure struggling to stop you, that idiot. Forget the other children who have disobeyed you. Yuki, Hiro, Kisa, Rin, Hatsuharu…forget them all and remember the brilliant part of it all.

You broke him.

You broke him and it felt _good. _


	43. Shade

**A/N:** Couldn't write anything too serious, couldn't write anything to fluffy/happy. Just a nice, comfortable friend fic. (grin) 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Shade**

Words aren't necessary. Not all of the time, anyway. With Shigure and Hatori, all they need are cigarettes and some shade from the sun and they're good.

Best friends. They disagree on some things…no, make that many things; but that doesn't change the fact that they'll stick together no matter what. Hatori may seem weak, but he has a strong heart. Shigure is indeed conniving, but at the same time he's just so happy that Hatori can't help but smile. It was Shigure's infectious laugh he blamed the smiles on.

"Lighter?"

"Thanks."

No more words. They go and sit out on the porch of Hatori's separate home. Shigure has just visited Akito and desperately needs to smoke. So they take a seat down in the shade of the roof, watching pigeons pecking at the grass. The two friends puff away but sit in complete and comfortable silence.

"Akito?"

"Was fine."

Short words, simple words. The subject is dropped and they breathe in the smoke, and then blow it out. Breathe in, blow out. Chimes chatter softly in the background as a quiet breeze blows around the two of them.

"Chilly?"

"Kind of."

Puff, puff, puff. Neither do anything about their cold situation. Children are now screaming with delight as they chase the pigeons. The two mutually and silently decide the children's noises will substitute for a conversation they should be having.

"How's Honda-san?"

"Oh, you know. The usual."

Again, the subject is dropped.

"I'm still cold."

"Want to go out in the sun?"

"And leave the _shade?_ No thank you!"

Smoke filters around their two heads, spiralling into the atmosphere and scattering apart in the breeze. Both have had a stressful day, and both are happy to relax in each other's company.


	44. Storm

**A/N: **Haven't written in a while! Sorry, school's been DEATH and then I bought KH 2 and I wrote one at school but I forgot it there. XD I really felt like writing in second person, and…yea. I wanted to write about this scene. I love this scene! Anyway.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Storm**

She's a storm. You can see it in her body. Her eyes flash like lightning, her movements are swift like the whipping wind and her voice is loud—powerful—like the thunder. You see it and hear it and feel it, and you realize how lucky Haru is to have someone like her love him.

It's not like _you _love her or anything. You just see that behind the lightning, she is trying to hide something in her eyes. Something deep, something secret and meaningful. You can't see what it is yet, but maybe sometime you will.

Her thunderous voice quiets as you explain your theory. Your grip on her wrist loosens, because she's no longer fighting or running away. When you finish, you can see what you've said is true. Her eyes, usually narrow, widen in quick surprise. Her body tenses, and you can feel it under your fingertips.

She whisks her arm out of your reach, muttering. Then she yells. Then she screams. You block it out, but it's hard. She's a storm, a raging wild storm that has no way to slow down. She's forever rampaging, forever flashing with lightning and screaming with thunder. There's nothing you can do but take in her words, and you know they hurt. You can hear your own mind arguing against her words, her proclamations. But just like her, you hide things.

Such contrast. There are many different kinds of storms. There is a _her _storm, where she's loud and opinionated and doesn't let anyone stop her from her task. Then there's a _you _storm, where you're silent and full of turmoil inside rather than out. You don't know if you like either, but it's the first thing you've ever realized you have in common with her and for some strange reason, you hold it closely; as if it might fly away, just like her, and never come back.

And then Haru comes, and she stops yelling. You can _feel _the lightning in her eyes putter out. You hear the roar of her voice cease, and her body settles. Her eyes are again, wide and shocked, as are yours. Haru is here, and he talks to her. You can feel her pain, trying so hard to unleash itself and fight. You don't know what this pain is; if it's because she's sorry she broke up with, or if it's about something else completely. But it's like a quiet hum, like the electricity you feel in the air before a storm. And then he kisses her and, let's face it, you're a bit surprised. Right in front of you? Have a little bit of decency! But then he mumbles something in her ear and her eyes, her eyes, which had let their guard down and had been about to unleash the rain, narrowed again. They dried up, and you feel the lightning. Oh Haru, you think, you don't know when to stop, do you?

The noise from her slap seems to shake the earth. Anger stings in the air, and once again you see just how much of a storm she is.

And then she turns, and she runs. You watch her go, and you feel sadder then you should; you've no idea why.

You turn to look at Haru, who's smiling dejectedly. You don't know what he's talking about as he speaks, but you feel sorry for him. It's almost like he actually thinks she doesn't love him anymore—like she _really _wanted to break up with him.

You know she didn't. Like a storm, she destroys things in her path; but also like the storm, she's helping something. Whether it is plants or crops or grass or helping create electricity with lightning, the storm is a two-faced monster.

But so is she, in nicer terms. And as you watch her vanish you wonder just what's happening in her life and why she pushed out the one thing she truly loved. You glance over at Haru again, who's now staring up at the sky, hands in his pockets. You feel bad for him, but you don't know what to say.

Yes, you realize as you trudge back to your house behind Haru, yes, she is definitely a storm. You wonder where she is now, what she's destroying at the moment. And then you smile. You will figure her out, no matter how long it takes. You don't know if it's for Haru or for yourself or even for her, but you know you will do the job.

You will clear the storm.


	45. Sound

**A/N:** WOW! I've been sooo busy! Playing KHII, Spring Break, working on some original character stories…man it's been insane! Sorry for the long wait and the randomness of this drabble. It just caught me and now I can't let it go. Heh. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Sound**

When Momiji first heard a violin, he was six, tiny, and just over the harsh realization his mom was never going to look at him and _know _who he was ever again.

"Look Mee-Mee," whispered the young lady over his shoulder. It was a summer's afternoon and Momiji was following his nanny around while she ran errands. They were standing in the square of a small market section of town. "Do you hear it?"

Momiji peeked out from behind her kimono to see an old man standing in the middle of the square, swaying back and forth to something Momiji couldn't hear over the noise of the street. "What? What?" he asked, tugging at the kimono.

She laughed and pushed him closer. "Listen carefully," she whispered into his ear. The little boy waddled a few steps closer. He saw the man had something shiny and wooden resting on his shoulder, and he was drawing some sort of stick across the strings.

And that was when he heard it. The crisp, clear sound. It was beautiful and mournful at the same time. He sat there, awe-struck, as the old man's face furrowed with concentration and sadness and his fingers danced across the strings. The tune wailed throughout the square, catching the attention of passers-by. But no one was as riveted as Momiji.

Tears were streaming down the small boy's cheeks as the song ended. Polite clapping echoed throughout the square, and the man gave a gracious bow. But Momiji was running out of his nanny's grasp and toddling at an absurdly fast pace towards the man. He clung onto his pant leg, tugging at the material as tears poured down his face.

"Why are you so sad?" he cried, his voice catching in his small throat. "Why do you want to make me cry? How do you know I'm sad?" he screeched, his voice trembling.

The old man seemed surprised at first, but then he leaned down so he was at eye level with Momiji, who was now sniffing and rubbing at his eyes with a bundled up fist.

"My boy," he told him softly, resting the instrument beside him on the ground and grabbing Momiji's shoulders softly, "I'm so glad."

Momiji blinked at him. "…What?" he whispered through a sore throat.

"My music has touched your heart." A large smile adorned the man's face, but to Momiji it still seemed incredibly heartbreaking. "I'm so glad."

Momiji left the square with those words in mind. Three days later, he begged his father for violin lessons, who willingly set him up with a teacher.

So everytime Momiji plays his violin, he thinks of those notes and that song and that man, and tears gather in his eyes as he plays his _own _music, music he hopes will touch someone's heart one day.

That way, he too can be just like that man. _Happy. _


	46. Rain

**A/N:** You would think something about rain would be about Kyo, right? I actually started writing one about rain with him, but then I was like…I'll try to be different. Haha! 

Oh yea, and this is from **Volume 13.** Go read it. (grin)

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Rain**

He wished that it would rain. The one time in his life he prayed for rain to fall in torrents and never stop, and the air was so dry it seemed to be crackling.

Life just wasn't fair.

Kureno wanted it to rain so he could hold that thin, fragile slip of paper out between his fingers, stretching it until it was taut and even a soft poke could rip it. He wanted it to rain so he could watch the numbers scribbled in pencil slowly stretch wider and wider, morphing and changing; and then it would rain, and the pellets of water would collapse the paper in two as they fell, drenching it and making it impossible to read.

That's what he wanted. Because if it was one thing he was bad at, it was resisting temptation. Oh, sure, he acted like he could. But inside, his body screamed to do what he really wanted. His heart pounded in his chest everytime he saw that drawer in his desk, where he had hidden the slip of paper in a notebook that held account information.

Every morning he would wake up and look out of his window, hoping for a grey sky and storm clouds. But everytime it was the same; the sun and the picturesque cotton candy clouds.

It made him sick.

How was he supposed to handle the pressure of that paper if he didn't destroy it? He couldn't do it any other way. He needed the rain. For some reason, Kureno couldn't rip it up himself, because then it would seem like he had done it intentionally. At least if it was the rain he could blame it on the weather.

His mind worked in absurd ways. That's why he didn't talk often. If people knew he was planning on destroying her address through the powers of nature, they would definitely be more than politely curious with what wrong with him.

The scrap of paper rested there, mocking him, saying "I'm making it so it's dry outside, you know? Because of me, there is no rain. It's an omen buddy; use it."

But he would never listen. Omens? _Omens? _When had that ever meant anything? Fate? Signs? It was nothing. When she had caught him on the sidewalk he had seen it merely as coincidence. Never good luck, never fortuitous. Just…_there._

But this paper was something else. That and the fact that the rain just wasn't falling. His solid wall was slowly crumbling each time he thought about that paper. Soon, he started making a little game in his head when the time began to stretch.

_So if it doesn't rain tomorrow, I'll look at the paper. But wait; unless the weatherman **says **it's going to rain and it doesn't, I'll wait an extra day just in case he was off._

Which became…

_If it doesn't rain by this evening, I'll look at it. No, I'm busy. Okay, tomorrow morning? But what if it rains tomorrow afternoon? I'll just…I'll wait. For now. I'll see._

He hadn't looked at it. As soon as Tohru had given him _her _address, he had crumpled it in his fist and stuffed it in the notebook. No need to see what would only cause him pain.

And then, one morning, miraculously, it was raining. His eyes snapped open to the pattering of rain landing softly on the roof. He jumped up and glanced out his window to see the gardens sparkling with moisture as the small droplets of rain landed on any surface, sliding off of leaves and feeding the roots of the plants below. Kureno knew the time had come.

If it hadn't rained by today, he would have looked it. Really. He would have.

It wasn't the mind-blowing blasting rain he had hoped for, but with time the paper would melt between his fingers, becoming nothing but limp pieces of white glop. The writing would be illegible, and he would be glad.

He wouldn't have the temptation anymore.

Outside, he held the note in his fist, instinctively protecting it from the rain that dropped around him. Already his hair was plastered to his head, and his attire of plaid pyjama pants (but no shirt) left him chilled. But still he stood, just outside the office doors, with the paper in his hand.

It shouldn't have been this hard. Just do it. Hold the paper to the sky. He tried. Hesitantly, his hand rose, and the palm opened up to the sky. The folded piece of paper didn't explode open, but then again, the rain wasn't damaging it very much.

He clenched his fingers tight around it again, suddenly worried—afraid. Kureno didn't like this feeling. But it was still that—a _feeling. _

Without a word he spun around and trotted back into the house, locking the door behind him and stuffing the paper back into the account book.

He could hold out a little while longer.

If it didn't rain tomorrow, he would wait another day. That was it. If it rained _that _day, he would go outside and get rid of it. Yes, that was his plan. He knew it was the same, but he didn't care. With that paper taunting him, he knew he still had a chance.

And that was all he needed.


	47. Water

**A/N:** Water seems to be a theme for me lately. Probably because it's raining out. I love rain, don't you? It just seems to clean the place up. And it helps things grow green. And it keeps my hay fever down to a minimum, haha. 

Oh, and I added in about the picture because it showed him as a little kid looking at her picture, remember? Yea, so I decided to randomly add in it. Meep.

**Disclaimer: **

**Water**

The water had been cold at first. Freezing cold. Ice cold. So-cold-your-feet-turn-black cold. The kind of cold that froze his eyes as soon as he opened them.

Yes. It was _that _cold.

And he had hated it. He was glad to escape for those few precious months, where he could flee the family and the curse and the bet and even the threat, and just fight and train and grow stronger and stronger. Maybe not strong enough, but stronger.

It even helped forget about that picture of that little girl.

But not really.

Then he had returned, only to find her standing in the room about two seconds later. Well, he had realized it after she had attacked him and tried to hold him down.

That hadn't worked out so well.

He had hated her. He had hated her for interrupting The Fight and being so cute and even a little pretty, if plain. He hated her for taking over his room and maybe, just maybe, for seeing him act so fighting-crazed. He admitted it; he was embarrassed. Maybe that's why he had hated her.

But then things changed. Changed _a lot. _And the cold water became lukewarm water. He tried to tell Shishou this, but he had scoffed and told him the lukewarm water would heal him.

Crazy. That's what Shishou was. How could the water heal him? In the beginning, the cold had frozen him. Now that it had thawed it was steadily rising, leaving him no room for air or to breathe or even for a little sanctum of space. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He didn't know what the water was, but all he knew was that slowly he found himself smiling, not attacking Yuki so much, and acting even a bit kinder towards Shigure.

He hated the water more than he hated her.

But then it rose to a boiling point so high that the water was neither cold nor lukewarm anymore. It was fiery hot, searing across his entire body and nearly burning him. He couldn't get rid of the feeling, and he didn't know what it was and he wanted it gone _now. _

Not until he saw Akito and thought and thought and realized; the water. The cold water, the lukewarm, the burning hot water that he couldn't get rid of.

_It was her._

Was she going to heal him? Is that what Shishou meant? But he didn't care. As soon as he realized it, the steaming hot water seemed to evaporate, slowly, as boiling water does. The level sunk, and he was no longer drowning.

He could breathe.

He could breathe but the water was still there. It always would be, and he knew it. But now he knew it was good. Not painful. But nice.

_Healing. _


	48. Dinner

**A/N: **Yet another multimedia class where I did nothing. Score! The yearbook is going to be horrible, heehee. Oh, and I'm almost at the 50 mark! I'm so excited! This has been taking forever, and will continue to do so. Haha. Thank God there are so many characters to dig into.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Dinner**

"Hatori, it's…amazing."

"It's really nothing special, Kana."

"_I_ think so," the young girl replied defiantly, an innocent pout puckering at her lips, drawing her face only a fraction tighter. Hatori noticed this, just like he noticed everything else about Kana, and smiled warmly.

"Well, I'm glad you like it then."

The two were standing in the dining room of Hatori's house, where papers for work (slips for medicine, records of patients, etc) usually lay scattered about. But tonight, the oak table was clean, with two plush velvet cushions for chairs, instead of the ritualistic hard straw mats. On the table was a vase of white lilies, Kana's favorite flower. And a dinner fit for a king rested on the table, the different plates and bowls with the assortment of creations set up artistically and cleanly.

And to top it all off, two faintly glowing candles were the only light in the room.

"Let's eat!" she cried happily, giggling as she ran over to one of the cushions that sank underneath her weight. Smiling at her boyfriend, she reached out to stroke one of the soft petals of the flowers. "Why so fancy?" Her question was softly spoken, but the words sent Hatori's good mood to a screeching halt.

"N—No reason…" he replied absently, running a hand through his recently combed hair and taking a seat at the table as well. "No reason," Hatori said again, with more finality. 

The topic was immediately forgotten, and the two careened into a conversation about all sorts of things: flowers, medicine, some of their humorous Sohma patients, the latest gossip in the Estate (this was mostly Kana chattering away; Hatori listened obediently), and the latest topic…car keys.

"Don't you hate it when you lose them?" Kana asked chirpily, slurping back some noodles in such a way Hatori easily forgave her. "I mean, on those mornings when you're _really_ late and you just need them SO badly! I know I hate it!"

"Ka—"

"Or have you ever had the problem when the keys are locked in your car? That's horrible! The locksmith just seems to be laughing at you secretly, and it's really embarrassing…"

"Kan—"

"OH!" she cried suddenly, her chopsticks clinging tightly to a roll as she lifted her hand in surprise. "Or what about when you _grab the wrong keys?_"

"Kana!" Hatori almost snapped, wincing at his tone. Kana blinked at him innocently.

"Yes, Hatori?"

"I've been trying to talk to you for the past few minutes…"

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She placed her hand on top of his comfortingly, sincerely. "I really am! What did you want to say?"

Hatori gazed at her. The perfect chance. _This_ was the moment, the one he had been counting on his entire relationship! _Just ask it, _whispered a voice deep inside of his head. _Ask it. Don't be a coward! _

"Ka…" He found his voice was leaving him, so he coughed and tried again. Nothing came out. She was now watching him with eyes that sparkled with amusement. She didn't realize how painful this was for him, how tight his stomach was clenching and how fuzzy his head felt from over thinking.

"This…is nothing special," he began quietly, spreading the hand not holding Kana's at his table. She seemed about to say something, but Hatori shook his head a fraction of an inch, and she closed her mouth again.

"Compared to…anything else we could be doing, dinner is nothing. But, I have never been…you know…eccentric."

Kana smiled at him. "That's the way I like you," she whispered softly. Beginning to tremble, Kana's words gave him courage to continue.

"But no matter what we could or could not be doing, it all leads to one final thing. One happy, momentous thing." Even before he said it, he knew she knew what he was going to ask.

"You mean…" she interrupted suddenly, and Hatori cursed his pause for breath. "Get…married?"

His shoulders immediately deflated. He had been ready to say a speech about how wonderful she made him feel, how perfect their relationship was, how amazing she had been in accepting him for _what_ he was. But she just gone ahead and said it, which made Hatori feel a bit…well…_embarrassed. _

"Uh…yea," he mumbled half-heartedly, risking a glance through his bangs to see Kana's expression. It was of mingled shock and something else, and she hadn't even noticed yet what she had done to make Hatori feel so foolish.

"Oh Tori!" she cried suddenly, her eyes welling with tears. Hatori was immediately alarmed and clutched her hand tighter.

"Kana?" he asked quietly.

"Hatori, I—that is…I'm—it's—" She couldn't continue and began to give big sobs. Hatori's eyes widened, and immediately he knew.

"Oh…it's because of the Zodiac curse, isn't it?" he asked softly. This stopped Kana's sob abruptly, and her eyes, glistening with tears, blinked.

"Wha—oh no! Hatori!" She began giggling, and he immediately took that as a good sign. "I'm just so…amazed! And happy! And…_of course!_"

Hatori was filled with bliss, a bubble that had slowly started up somewhere in his midriff and was now taking over his entire body. He leaned in to hug her, and she clutched her arms around his neck tightly, and the two began to laugh almost nervously, gleefully…

But hidden deep within all of Hatori's rare optimism and comfort and immense pleasure, a vicious question echoed in his mind.

_But what will Akito say?_


	49. Passing

**A/N: **It's been forever! Gah! Been so busy with Second Thoughts (go read, hint hint) and some Kingdom Hearts stuff (go read that too, hinthinthint). Haha. So…yea. I felt like writing a story one-shot more than an emotionally heart-wrenching drabble. Hehe. With made up scenarios and characters, _yes! _

Oh yea, I also decided that Haru wasn't really close with any of the other Zodiac, excluding Rin. I like to think it was Tohru who brought them all together. Oh, I guess he had Kisa. Maybe not yet though, heh.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Passing**

Twelve-year-old Haru walked obediently down the hallway of his all-boys school, his heavy backpack weighing him down; not only with the mounds of homework that had been stuffed inside of it, but also because it was ripping apart at the edges, and he _really _didn't want to ask his mom for a new one.

_Maybe Rin will sew it up for me if I ask really nice, _he mused silently, playing with a small chain-linked bracelet on his wrist as students chattered absently around him. _I wonder if she can sew, anyway?_

Haru's gentle eyes flickered across the hall, where he saw his cousin Momiji giggling with some other boys; he waved, and Haru waved dutifully back. He wasn't very close with Momiji, but he felt it was his job to wave. Now that he thought about it, the only cousin Haru could think of being very close to was Rin.

_Strange, _he thought, but tried to ignore it. Especially the small voice in his mind that was saying they all stayed away from him for being Black.

A boy Haru recognized from the Inside was standing by the doorway to the art classroom. He leaned casually against the wall, his hands crossed lazily at his sides. Haru smirked; he knew that stance all too well. That was what he did when he was trying to act tough. Add the white hair, vicious scowl, and _maybe _a pinch of being Black and he had the look down pat.

Haru adjusted the strap of his blue backpack on his shoulder; as soon as he did, he heard an enormous ripping noise behind him. Before he could react quickly enough, piles of textbooks and notepaper tumbled down the ground below, scattering all around him as students walked hurriedly past. He let out a gasp and then a groan of frustration as all of his work lay about the section of the hallway. Students stared at him as if it was some kind of criminal act. He glanced down at the bag hanging limply in his hand; a stray piece of paper fluttered to the ground out of it. The zipper had ripped the bag completely in half. How was he going to take his books home _now? _

"Hey," whispered a voice. Haru looked over, not in the mood to talk to _anyone. _He realized with narrowed eyes it was that boy from the art room doors.

"What?" he snapped, his grip tightening his bag strap. _Calm down…it was just a backpack…_

"The grass not giving you the strength you need?"

Haru blinked. The…grass? "What're you talking about?" he asked stupidly, the anger in him ebbing away to be replaced with confusion.

The boy leaned in notoriously, eyes slitting with some kind of twisted pleasure Haru couldn't exactly place. "Oh you know," he told him casually. "I was just wondering if you've been grazing lately."

Haru gaped at him, feeling a strange tingle up his spine. No…no _way…_ "_What?_" he hissed, his tone furious.

"Well, that's what cows do, _right?_"

As Haru watched that ruthless smirk stretch across the child's face, all of his sentences clicked into place. Grazing…cows…his _zodiac? _Well, he supposed some of the kids on the Inside would know…this had happened quite a bit before. But no one had _ever _mentioned grazing. And Haru was already in a bad enough mood as it was.

"Get out of my face," Haru snipped, trying his hardest to stay under control. "Stop trying to act tough; I could break your bones to dust in a _second._"

"I'd like to see you try," taunted the bully, and Haru's vicious anger was slowly mounting at the taunts. One sensible thought managed to stick through, though.

_Why was this random kid doing this?_

Haru dropped his bag on the floor, papers blowing away with the air the bag created. He faced the boy fully, eyes flaring. "What's your name, _kid?_" he sneered. The boy looked pleased Haru was finally taking notice of him.

"Tashi," he replied smoothly, his black hair flopping into his slitted eyes. "Gonna kill me, cow? Gonna moo at me or something?" The boy let out a bark of laughter.

"I'm not a _cow,_" Haru said dangerously under his breath. "_I'm an OX!_" he roared, leaping at the boy and slamming him into the lockers before the kid had a chance. He fell to the ground, eyes dazed. Haru stood over him, panting. A drifting student had shrieked in the distance, and Haru knew teachers would be coming soon. He had to pack up his things and leave, as much as he wanted to punch the stupid kid senseless.

He turned around to begin gathering his books. "Was that all?" whispered a voice from behind him; Haru froze, eyes wide. He thought he had shut Tashi up.

"Yea, that's all," Haru told him hotly. "Can you go away now?"

"I knew you were a cow, but I never thought you were a chicken too," snapped the boy. Haru glared at him.

"What're you _doing _this for?" Haru hissed, confused as well as mad. "I don't even _know _you."

"Yea, but you're a cow and that's all that matters. Oh, and your hair is stupid."

The boy should have run after that.

Fifteen minutes later Haru found himself seated in a chair beside Tashi in front of the principal, with a somewhat black eye and a bruise on his arm. Tashi was much worse off, with blood pouring from his nose, two definite black eyes and some sprained bones somewhere Haru didn't want to think about. He sat tall and straight and silent, listening as the principal continued to talk to his mother on the phone.

He hung up, and after several minutes of silence he stared at the two boys. The triangle of people was silent for a very long time. Haru finally let out a small cough, and the principal rounded his gaze on him.

"Why did this happen?" he asked heatedly. Haru blinked. _Why is he asking me?_ But he knew why. Haru usually _always _started the fights.

"I dunno," he answered vaguely, scratching his neck almost boredly. "Can I go?"

"No you may not!" snapped the teacher, and Haru deflated into his chair. This was going to be a long meeting.

He let his thoughts drift as the principal roared into his usual lecture. Flicking his gaze to the roof, Haru felt his brow furrow. Being a member of the Zodiac seemed to have no perks at all. Being bullied by a complete stranger definitely didn't seem like a perk.

"Did you hear me Sohma-san?" cried the principal. Haru blinked lazily at him.

"Yessir."

"Good." More lecturing.

Haru hated his life.


	50. When?

**A/N: **I turned fifteen yesterday! Giggle. Happy birthday to me? I had to post something because I'm saying that I'm leaving for the next two days, So I'm gonna have a swackload of homework to catch up on. Please don't abandon this story or any otheeeers. I'm just so, so, _so _slow. Haha.

My Kyo muse is so much stronger then Yuki's. Woe.

**PS: **I forgot! This is number fifty! We're at a milestone here, people! Squee with me! Throw candy with me! I'm half-done! Bwahaha. Yay!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**When?**

When did I start falling for her? Was it the day I saw her in her tent, crawling out like a sick animal? Had I pitied her at first?

I did. I know I did, and I feel terrible about it. I thought she was just some plain girl, a runaway or just…well…a _stupid _girl. But she stayed, and she was sweet. So awkward and shy that it just made me smile. Nothing has ever made me smile.

But there's just something about her…

It might have been when she cleaned the kitchen for us. It might have been when we started walking to school together.

Or maybe it had been the night with the stars.

I don't know, but all I know is that slowly she made me feel warm. She made me feel safe and comfortable, like a normal human being. No longer was I the Rat; I was Yuki Sohma.

When did I know I loved her? When did I know that my heart belonged to her completely, no questions asked?

I can't tell you something like that…I don't know myself. All I know is that it happened, and that's all that matters.

* * *

Love? That's a pretty strong word. I mean, sure, I've technically used it. But honestly? Before I thought about it, I never saw it that way.

Call me heartless, but damn I hated her. She was annoying, she was clingy, and she had a weird obsession with the Cat. Honestly! It's not that great! And then she just goes and throws the word love out there like it's nothing when we barely knew each other! Geez, how stupid can you get?

But I'm getting ahead of myself. When did I know I loved her?

I guess it was small things. When she would force me to eat her food; when she would surprise me at home with clean laundry; when she came to sit on the roof with me those countless nights, just to be in silence. It was probably when her voice made me jumpy, when her appearance made my heart thud in my chest.

Hell, I'm not as sentimental as the Rat, but at least I know what I feel, right? Or…felt. Maybe it was when Akito started beating me up, although I'm pretty sure it was before that. When did my hate turn to love?

Maybe…maybe when she hugged me, cried to me, begged me not to leave. When she accepted me for who I was, no matter what I looked like.

…Yea. Yea, that must be it. When I knew she loved me in a strange way (obviously not the way I wanted her to), I knew I loved her back.

Who cares when it exactly was? What the _hell?_ Leave me alone.


	51. Summer

**A/N:** Kisa's so cute! I haven't written about Kisa in a while. Squee! And what does Kisa call everyone, anyway? I just added –chan, since I couldn't honestly think of what else she'd call them. Hm.

**PS:** Thanks to gladdecease for helping me with honorifics, the bane of my existance. Brawr.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Summer**

Kisa listens to the bitter arguments between Kyo-niisan and Yuki-niisan in the distance. She sees Onee-chan trying (with great difficulty) to calm them both down. Momiji-chan and Haru-niisan stand to the side, watching with interest.

Kisa and Hiro-chan sit at the small bonfire set up on the beach. As the sun sets in the distance, glaring in Kisa's eyes and making the sky an amazing, thick orange, she smiles over at Hiro-chan. "Hiro-chan," she whispers quietly, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. Hiro looks up, surprised.

"Yea?" he asks, in that soft tone that Kisa knows is just for her; it makes her feel warm inside.

"Summer is so pretty, isn't it?" She takes the time to watch the ocean waves lapping up at their feet; their chill tickles her toes, although she is a safe distance away. Starfish, seaweed, and bits of shells lay scattered just out of the waves' reach. Seagulls squawk in the distance, and the sky smells heavily of salt and smoke from the fire. Even the ocean reflects the sky's orange into her own amber eyes.

"If you think so," Hiro-chan replies kindly, smiling down at her. Kisa grins, turning her eyes to stare into the mesmerizing flames of the fire in front of her. It has been so long since she felt so at peace.

Hiro-chan and Kisa hold hands for the rest of the evening, not needing to speak. The silence is full and comfortable. Soon the sun is set and the sky is a midnight veil above them. Momiji-chan finally gets the hang of the fireworks, and a bright flash of green above them jolts Kisa out of her peaceful reverie; she squeaks, and Hiro-chan chuckles.

"It's just fireworks," he tells her, and Kisa feels silly. She sees Onee-chan sitting with Yuki-chan and Kyo-chan. Haru-niisan lights another firework. It whistles as it shoots into the air, bursting into a shower of orange and red sparks.

"Just like summer," Kisa whispers as she watches the fireworks. "Hiro-chan, they look just like summer!" She turns to beam at him, but stops when she notices his shoulders are stooped, his head lolling to the side; Kisa notices just then that his grip is limp in her hand. She giggles. "Hiro-chan, you fell asleep for the fireworks!" she manages to whisper through small bursts of laughter. She sidles over slowly to his side, where she gently rests her small head on Hiro-chan's shoulder.

"Just like summer," she whispers again, and her eyes fall gently closed to the sight of shimmering fireworks and the sound of Hiro-chan's quiet breathing.


	52. Choices

A/N: I need to STOP soon, or I'll use up all the words before the next book comes out (unlikely)! I was rereading the thirteenth one and got all giddy about Furuba and decided to write something. 

**NOTE: **This is taken from one of Takaya-sensei's character sidebar info things: it said that Kunimitsu had been doing some pretty bad stuff until Kazuma took him in.

**ANOTHER NOTE: **I made up the orphanage, heehee. And if there's actually a story behind Kunimitsu, please don't correct me. I'm not there yet (obviously)! Haha.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Choices**

There was always a choice, and he knew it. He could choose whether to smoke that cigarette gleaming between his dirty fingertips or not. He could choose to go to the place called "home" instead of staying out on the streets again, hanging with his gang and chasing a few people. He could choose to try again, to stop this endless trail of nothingness.

There was _always _a choice, but Kunimitsu could honestly care less.

When he watched that boy cry when they advanced upon him, coaxing him for the money they had watched him stuff in his wallet, Kunimitsu could have walked away. There could be consequences, or there could be none at all. He would never know unless he took the risk.

But being who he was, he stuck to the others like glue. He needed a home. His home? Where was it? That orphanage? Oh yes, that place. The building made of cement, smelling like dirty children and greasy food. The building with the air like smog, settling on his shoulders until he couldn't breathe. Watching other children run into the arms of safety, while Kunimitsu just…stood there. Alone.

So he had left. Packed a bag and jumped out the window. And now here he was, with the obvious choice of staying alive: living with other street kids. Not very pretty, but it kept him fed (at least a little) and really, that was all Kunimitsu cared about at the moment.

Sometimes he would see those groups of normal school kids, laughing and talking and maybe eating some ice cream. And then they would look over at him and skitter around him like he was a disease, and Kunimitsu would just stand there, repulsive and frightening and a little bit scared of himself, too.

One day, he was sitting alone in one of the many back alleys of Tokyo. His friends were off hunting for money, and he had decided to skip out to just sit and think and maybe make his mind up about some things.

A puff of smoke spiralled above his head from his cigarette, causing his glimpse of the child in the karate outfit to be fuzzy and fleeting. But Kunimitsu stood up anyway, grinding the heel of his shoe into his cigarette and bounding after the little child.

"Hey, Kid!" His hand whipped out and grabbed the boy's arm. He heard a squeak, and the boy whirled around to face him with an angry expression. Kunimitsu blinked.

"Excuse me, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to please unhand my student." The voice was pleasantly neutral, but it sent chills up Kunimitsu's spine. For the first time in his life, he listened. The boy grumbled and rubbed at his forearm as Kunimitsu let go. Kunimitsu whirled around to see a man standing before him, blinking slowly with a tiny smile on his face.

"Just who do you think you are?" Kunimitsu snapped.

"Kazuma Sohma."

Kunimitsu learned a lot in those next five minutes of his life, although to this day he tries to disregard that fact. Kazuma was calm and collected, something Kunimitsu had always strived for. He was happy to impart wisdom on Kunimitsu, another thing he was grateful for (although not at the time). He was forced to stand there, listening to the older man lecture him in a soft manner; even his sharp tongue did nothing to sway the tall, solid man.

"I have a son just like you at home," he said quietly, smiling. And then he walked past the boy, who was standing still, almost afraid to move.

"Don't be afraid to seek me out."

Kunimitsu snorted. "But--!"

"There is always a choice."

So four days later, Kunimitsu was horrified to see himself standing outside of a comfortable looking dojo. He was horrified to see that he no longer wore the mark of his gang; instead he was decorated with bruises. But worst of all, he was horrified to see Kazuma spot him through a window and smile at him.

Kunimitsu had finally made a choice. And even though fear overtook him as he stepped into the dojo, he felt—deep down in his heart—it had been the right one.


	53. Drink

**A/N: **I love dialogue! Haha, especially when I really have no clue where it came from. What's wrong with my mind? Well, my summer break has officially started, and I'm hyped up on pop and good music and yay! And I'm alone, so I write. Sigh. And it's dumb. Sorry.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Drink**

"Kyo-kun?"

"What?"

"Um, would you like some tea?"

"…"

"Oh, um, okay! Nevermind, I'm sorry…"

"Sure. I guess."

"Oh!"

"Can I have a cup?"

"I'll pour it for you!"

"Thanks."

"Here you are, Kyo-kun!"

"Why do you always smile like that?"

"Eh?"

"You know…like you're actually happy."

"But I _am _happy!"

"Living _here?_"

"I'm…I don't understand…"

"With Shigure the Pervert?"

"Oh, um…!"

"And Yuki the Robot?"

"Yuki-kun is very sweet…"

"I'm so sure."

"What about you Kyo-kun?"

"… 'What about me' what?"

"What are you?"

"Me?"

"Yes!"

"I'm…hm…Kyo the Cursed?"

"I don't think so!"

"No?"

"No."

"Well, what am I then? There's really nothing else."

"You're Kyo-kun the…the Charming!"

"Pfft! Oh, uh, sorry, let me clean that up…"

"I have a towel with me! I'll mop it up…I can't believe you laughed that hard!"

"Well, don't say stupid things when I'm still gulping down a drink! Geez…"

"S—Sorry!"

"But why do you think that?"

"What?"

"That I'm…_charming, _or whatever."

"Oh! Because you are! Haven't you seen the girls at school? They're almost as bad as Yuki's fans now!"

"…That's stupid."

"But it's true!"

"Quite smiling like that, dammit!"

"Oh! Right! Sorry…"

"…Charming?"

"Yes."

"…"

"Uh—um—er--!"

"Tohru."

"Eh? Yes?"

"Can I have some more tea?"


	54. Not Enough

**A/N:** Hullo, my (hopefully still) faithful reviewers! Ohisashiburi! I've been kind of out it for, well, ever, because my mind fizzled and I've been anxiously awaiting Volume 14 (two weeks, roughly!) to come out in English. That's me, being awkward and just…waiting. Sigh. It's a habit, I guess. 

So, since I don't know much yet about the Kureno and Akito storyline thing that's going on (not much has been mentioned yet in published English volumes), you'll have to take pity on me and pretend I know what I'm talking about. Oh yea, it's short!

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Not Enough**

He never saw enough of the outside world. Just the walls of his home, the flowers budding in the gardens. The servants, plodding along like obedient puppies. The sun, hiding behind clouds. The moon, rising from behind the giant stonewall of the Sohma Estate.

That one day. That one day he had been allowed to roam free was a rare one. It didn't happen. It just…didn't. So when he was outside, he felt lost.

Who _were _these people? Dressed in normal clothing or dressed in strange outfits he didn't understand. Talking so fast, typing on phones, scarfing down on snack food Kureno wished he could eat. He was frightened. Frightened, a bit disappointed…but more than anything he was envious.

Because for once in his life, Kureno just wanted to be _normal._

But how was that possible? How could such a feat be accomplished by hiding out behind walls all day, following the every whim of…a child?

It just couldn't be done. He wasn't used to the looming skyscrapers above him, the deafening noises and the obnoxious vehicles trundling by. His ears and eyes cried for the peace of the Estate, the tranquility. But his mind knew the truth; that it was just tense silence waiting to snap. So his mind forced him, literally _forced _him, to step through the city like nothing was wrong with him, like forces inside of him weren't fighting an epic battle worthy of any novel.

On those rare days off, Kureno would leave. Leave to wander, tempted to just run. Run and hide, run and be free. Whatever it was, it was never enough. Because the Estate would always exist, taunting him. And as long as it stood, with its chilling atmosphere, Kureno would never see enough of what it truly was to be _alive. _


	55. Air

**A/N:** Booyes! I just got the fourteenth volume today! I ordered it a week ago and when they called me today, I basically ran to the store to pick it up. Aha, I'm that pathetic. 

SO. Now that I've read it two times over already, I've gotten some new drabble ideas! I won't post them all in order since they're all from the same book, but I decided to start off with the volume's star…Rin! Tada!

**PS: **We've reached 300 reviews! Huzzah! Whoopee! This is amazing and beautiful and fills me with warmth! I love you all, through the good reviews and even the bad, for helping me grow through my writing and making this experience so enjoyable! And we're only a little over halfway there! Cheers!

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Air**

Being unable to breathe is a sticky business. That's what Rin thinks. She doesn't like that feeling of her lungs tightening, her throat closing, her teeth jarring the way for air. She hates not being able to breathe. Being stuck without air.

As she stands outside of Akito's room, that feeling is overtaking her again. In her chest something is going on, and her breathing is short and shallow. But she has to remember to stay calm, to try and breathe, because maybe Akito hasn't called her for a visit to discuss _that. _How would he know about _that? _It was impossible. Haru and she had been as sneaky as mice.

And Akito's voice, cold and precise, murmurs the word, "enter." Rin takes one last deep breath, fights for the air that is rightfully hers, and trudges into his room.

He yells. He yells and he screams and all Rin can think is, "_how_?" How could he know? Why? What had she done? Was falling in love such a crime? Was being wanted, being needed, such a horrible deed? But as he thrashes and throws a fit and throws his fists at her, her thoughts get lost and so does the air. She is gasping, fighting for breath. She doesn't know if it's the mental or physical shock, but her body is refusing air. And she's feeling woozy so she tries breathing through her nose. But another punch from Akito stops that, and she gasps again. And again. Grabbing at air, trying to breathe. It shouldn't be this painful.

And before she can digest what's truly happening, after hearing Akito scream those words and burn her heart and stop her blood cold, she feels herself falling. Not onto the floor, the obvious choice. No, Akito has decided to do much worse.

She is falling, falling out of a window. And suddenly there is too much air rushing past her, ripping at her hair and flesh and clothes. And she tries to take one more gasp, but her mouth won't work properly. Her body is frozen in horror.

And she lands, and she feels the pain. She feels the blood seeping from her shoulder and into her clothes. She feels the tears pouring from her eyes; from the pain or the words she doesn't know. Her bones feel funny and she can't keep her eyes open. But she tries, one last time, to take a breath. Air. She needs air. To stay calm. To stay alive. Breathe. Air.

But something is pushing against her lungs, and that same compressing feeling takes over. She can't breathe, and she starts to panic. But something else is dragging her down, forcing her out of consciousness. So she closes her eyes, gives into the pain, and takes one last gasp of air.


	56. Light

**A/N:** Okay, here's the thing. Still haven't read the chapters concerning the play. So here, let's pretend Kyo acts like he hates acting (hahaha), but secretly loves it inside because he can be someone else. Okay. Done. No more on the subject. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Light**

He hated it. He hated being up there where he didn't belong, saying lines that weren't his own. Having to look into that freaky _face _instead of Tohru's.

The lights were too bright. He couldn't see the audience, which was a good thing. He could remember everything perfectly though, out of habit. Where to stand, what to say. Expression. Expression. _Expression. _It wasn't that hard. Deep down, these lines were things he felt close to. Something he felt he wanted to say to someone else…not the psychic goth freak, though.

But that wasn't the point. He was his own person. Someone else. Not himself. But did that matter? For once in his life, people were _noticing _him. He was a prince. No, not just a prince. _The _prince. Prince Kyo. No longer was he always compared to the beauty of _Prince Yuki. _

No, now Kyo was his _own _prince. A fake one, but did that matter? For one night—one night in his whole life—_he _was on top. Not Yuki, with his fake smiles and his girly face. No. He, Kyo, was the prince.

Prince Kyo.

It had a nice ring to it.

Especially under the light.


	57. Fixed

**A/N:** Sadly, No new and exciting news. Oh yea, this is about Kakeru. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Fixed**

"_It's fixed now. Everything will be okay."_

No.

That's a lie.

Everything isn't fixed.

Don't lie to me.

Everything is just as bad as it's always been.

Does it matter that we aren't fighting with them anymore?

Does it matter that things between Machi and I are still as cold as they've always been?

No.

Not to you.

To you, you think by pulling me out of this stupid race I would forgive you.

You only did it because I freaked out.

What would be happening if I hadn't shown what I _really _thought?

He said it right.

We press the wrong buttons.

It keeps breaking things.

I keep my distance from you, and you keep your distance from me.

How did you help at all?

You're a coward, Mom.

Just like me. We're the worst.

So shouldn't we be close? Bonded by this similarity or something?

We keep breaking things between us, even now.

It sucks.

So tell me…

Tell me, when was it ever "fixed"?


	58. Family

**A/N:** AH! I'm so so so so so so SO sorry for this! I've been incredibly busy with school and work, and not only that, but I decided to do NaNoWriMo this year! So that has basically taken up my entire month. Today I wrote a little ahead though, so I've time for a drabble! Sorry if it's a little shabby…I haven't written one in ages. Thank you for waiting so patiently, and I'm at 32, 000 words for NaNo! Happy Day! 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Family**

Tohru's family had always been a mess, and she wasn't afraid to admit it.

Her father dead, her mother prone to change her moods in a second…it had always been frightening. But Tohru had stuck with it. Her mom had been her only family, and she had clung to her like a dying leaf clung to its hold on a branch.

She realized though, that her mom was _technically _her only family. Everyone else she knew, everyone else she had grown to love…_they _were her family too.

Uo, with her gruff demeanour but her heart that melted easily.

Hana, with her silence and her omens, yet she always saved a smile for her "sister", Tohru.

Yuki, with his smiles and his words that got caught in his throat. Such a kind boy, and Tohru felt like he was a brother.

Kyo, who had once hated her but grown to like her. Tohru liked their bonding moments on the roof the best.

Shigure, who loved her and cared for her like her own father would have.

Momiji, with his soulful violin and his hidden pasts, yet he always showed up with a smile.

And—well—nearly all of the Zodiac were like her family! She couldn't help but love each and every one. She couldn't help but want to know more about everyone. She couldn't help but want to comfort all of them, spreading hugs like candy. It was her mission. She must make her family happy.

After all, that was what she had strived to do with her mom. Make supper, clean, do laundry…all to please her mom.

And now, she wanted to please the Sohmas. Please her two best friends in the whole entire world.

Tohru wanted to make everyone…_happy. _

It couldn't be very difficult, could it?


	59. Moon

**A/N:** I was reading volume 11 this morning while I munched on my toast, and I realized that I wanted to write a one shot about the scene with Kyo, Haru, and Yuki in the bedroom after watching the whole thing with Akito and Tohru unfold outside. Except, I always wondered, "how had they gotten to that stage of staring out the window?" so I decided to write it. Yay! And I ended it before the rest of the scene continued from the manga. Because really, we all know how that goes already. 

**PS**: I finished NaNoWriMo on November 28th! (grin)

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Moon**

The first thing Kyo noticed when he glanced out of the window was the moon, full and bright and lighting the entire grounds of the summer home in the darkness of night.

The second thing he saw was Tohru, screaming at Akito after what looked like he had punched Momiji.

Kyo jumped; he was instantly taken over by an insurmountable anger. Akito, Akito _dammit. _He would do something—anything—to Tohru. She needed to move! She needed to _get out of there!_

"Crap!" he shouted, almost loud enough for the whole summer home to hear. He started to run out of the room, the curtains whispering quietly as he let them drop.

Before he could reach the door, Haru appeared in his way. Kyo cursed viciously; Haru always managed to do that mysterious materializing thing whenever it was most unwanted. "Get out of my way, Haru!" Kyo snapped. "I'm serious!"

Haru blinked up at his cousin, his expression impassive as always. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Kyo just wanted him to move. "Go look out the window, you idiot! And shut up and let me through!" Kyo made a move to lunge past Haru, but just as he did Yuki walked out past Haru, grabbing Kyo's elbow in an iron-like grip. Kyo grimaced, swearing loudly at his cousin, who was watching him with darkness in his eyes.

"Let go of me, you damn rat!" Kyo spat, but Yuki's grip held on. Kyo didn't even feel like fighting him. He just wanted to get out there and help Tohru! Akito could have killed her by now!

"What's going on, Haru?" Yuki asked, dragging Kyo back into the room behind him as if he was nothing but a bit of garbage. Kyo howled, twisting and turning and trying to get out of Yuki's grip, but being the Rat his strength overruled Kyo's.

Haru was silent. For once, he looked shocked. "Akito…and Honda-san."

"Honda-san?!" Yuki cried in surprise, his hand letting go of Kyo's elbow as he raced to peer out the window.

"No Momiji?" Kyo asked, flinching as he gripped at his elbow. Haru shook his head.

"If he was there, he'll go get the adults," Haru told them in his reassuring voice. "But there's nothing we can do right now."

Yuki's head fell against the glass with a _thump_ as he peered out. Kyo didn't want to listen. _Or _look.

"You two are just chickens!" he yelled, making for the door again. Before he could move another step, Haru grabbed at his arm. Kyo turned around to punch him in the face, but Haru's icy expression stopped him.

"If you go out there, Honda-san will just get more hurt," Haru whispered. Kyo glared down at him, ready to insult Haru as much as he could. But…but what he was saying made sense.

It was all over quickly. "Shigure and Hatori," Yuki said, although Kyo and Haru could both see the two adults racing toward Tohru. They had watched the whole thing unfold, including the appearance of the mysterious Kureno and as Akito said something to Tohru; they just couldn't hear through the thick glass of the windows.

"I told you Momiji would get the adults," Haru said darkly. Kyo turned away from his cousins, absolutely disgusted with himself. He was completely and utterly useless. Couldn't he do _anything _right?

And all the while, the moon stared down at them, grinning.


	60. Square

**A/N: **I just got my volume 15 today, HUZZAH! This calls for immense rejoicing, because after four months of rereading all of them over and over, I have a new one to add to my rereading list before April! Yaaay! Also, this helped my muses! By the way, this is Yuki and Akito as kids, considering that's what volume 15 opened with (and what a gorgeous story! I bawled, really. God, my Yuki love grew 1000x in this volume). Next drabble I've got to try to pick a not-so-lead character. It's so hard though!

**Disclaimer:**Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Square**

"Yuki."

"Ah—yes?"

"Draw me a square." The child's fingers pointed to the piece of paper lying on the floor in front of him. Beside him was his paintbrush, which never seemed to be far from him. "Draw it right here." Akito's little fingers tapped the center of the paper. Yuki obliged silently, as any pet would.

He picked up the brush and began to intensely draw a square. It was hard work keeping Akito pleased; if he didn't, Akito might lash out at him again and again. Maybe he would paint black paint all over Yuki instead of the walls, this time.

"Stop shaking! The square looks like a circle now!" Akito's sharp, high-pitched voice snapped Yuki out of his thoughts. The little boy glanced down to see his fingers were indeed trembling. He tightened his grip, dipping the brush into the black paint once more.

"You're so boring to talk to, Yuki," Akito complained, flopping on his back in an elegant way. His eyes travelled over the roof and over to Yuki, who avoided eye contact as best as he could. "Can't you say anything?"

Yuki didn't answer, only continued to draw his wobbly square and cough lightly all the while.

"I'm done," he finally uttered in a soft voice. Akito blinked up at him, and then rolled back onto his stomach to take in Yuki's art. Yuki took this brief silence in the moment of inspection to try and peek out of the window beside him; he saw trees, birds, and children. He could even hear their laughter. But nothing audible snuck its way into the room. It was a room Yuki knew well, dark and empty except for a table and Akito's paintbrush.

"This is horrible," Akito finally acknowledged in an annoyed tone. "I guess it suits you though, Yuki." He tapped the center of the square with his finger, smirking up at Yuki, who gulped.

"This is you, Yuki. Right here in the middle of the square." He tapped it harder this time, for emphasis. "You're _boring_. And _lonely_. So it only makes sense you're stuck in a square. No way out, right?" He pointed to all four corners and smiled gleefully, as if he had just gotten a great birthday present. "You're stuck in the square forever, with me. Always with me."

Yuki didn't answer. He didn't know what to say. Trying desperately to ignore Akito's casual bites, he blocked him out. He thought about what he would do when he got outside, but…but he couldn't even remember what the outside looked like anymore.

"Together forever, right Yuki?" Akito was close beside him now. Yuki twitched. Akito leaned his face in closer, making it impossible for Yuki's eyes to escape him. "Right, Yuki?" he repeated, if only a bit more menacingly.

"R—Right," Yuki managed weakly, desperately containing a cough. Akito nodded.

"Right." He snatched the brush out of Yuki's hands and drew two stick boys in the middle with frowns on their faces. "Safe in here forever," he whispered, almost to himself.

Yuki took this chance to escape to the corner of the room, where he buried his face in his hands and tried to imagine he was anywhere else but there.


	61. Birthday

A/N: Yes, it's true! I'm the laziest person on Earth, but I'm also the busiest. (smile) Oh yea, and I really don't know when Haru's birthday is. Haha. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

Birthday 

I glare at her. It's one of those rare times she hides her smile behind her hands, her eyes sparkling. It's rare because Rin doesn't often smile.

"I told you not to," I scold, but only lightly.

"It can count as a present for…entering junior high," she decides firmly, poking the silver box in my hand. It's small, and easily fits into my palm.

"That was a year ago, Rin."

"Just open it."

I hesitate. I hate gifts, I really do. It's like someone is saying to me "here, Haru! You're worthless without some material possessions loaded onto you!" I know that's not how it is, though. Especially with Rin.

I glance back up at her. Rin's eyes are shining, showing a moment of true emotion. She tries so hard to hide under a marble face; I like to think I taught her that. But in these moments—when she's truly happy and not afraid to show it—I feel like hiding isn't worth it anymore.

"Fine," I grumble, and her smile widens as I lift the lid on the box. The cold autumn wind rushes past us, and I bury my neck deeper into my scarf as I peel back the small layer of cotton inside. I blink.

"Well?" she asks, and I don't know what to say at first. Mostly because I don't know _what _it is. It's shiny, and metallic. It looks like a small circle. I pick it up, and only then do I realize it's a hoop earring. It's plain, except for a single line carved into the middle.

"It's…great," I respond unenthusiastically. Really, I don't know what to say.

Rin's face falls. "You don't know what it is," she says flatly. I twitch.

"Yes I do."

"What is it?" she demands.

"It's an earring," I shoot back defensively. She blinks, and then a frown puckers her lips. Uh-oh.

"It has significance," she mumbles, "but it's not important. Put it back," she orders, and I don't know what she means until she snatches the box from my hand and shoves the earring inside.

"Hey!" I shout. "What're you doing?"

"I'll get you something else. Food." Her eyes are dark.

"I want it back," I say stubbornly.

"No you don't."

"You're acting a lot like a girl right now," I mutter darkly, and then freeze. I risk a glance over at her, and see her expression is flat.

"Big surprise," she says scathingly. Rin drops the box on the ground and stomps off. I frown after her retreating body. She has such a temper. And on my birthday, too!

I pick up the box, inspecting the earring inside. And then, like a flash of lightning, it hits me. Hadn't I said only a few days ago that I should get piercings in my ears? Just to annoy the school? Damn! I didn't think she'd actually pay that much attention!

"Damn," I say again, placing the earring back in the box and clicking the lid shut. I have to do something.

The next day, I go to Rin's room. I tap on the window. She's lying on the bed, as usual. Her gaze flickers toward me. She looks away again. Augh. She's more stubborn than me, and I'm the Ox!

I knock again. She glares at me, and I ignore it, pointing to my ear instead. She blinks, and sits up a little straighter. I'm grinning now. Clearly it worked. She takes a step closer, and then snaps open the window, leaning out.

"Is that…?"

"Yea," I respond coolly, shrugging. "I decided to go get it done yesterday, just for you." I smirk. "Now let me in, the cold might infect it or something."

She smiles, ignoring me and fingering the shiny new hoop in my earlobe. "Do you really think I'm that easy to please?" she asks lightly, but I can always tell when she's serious, too.

"Well, you _are _a girl," I say without thinking. It doesn't matter anyway though, because she smiles again and opens the window a little wider.

"Happy belated birthday, then," she congratulates lazily, flopping back down on her bed. I come and sit down beside her, touching the hoop tentatively; I wince. It stings.

"Thanks," I respond, and I mean it.


	62. Children

**A/N: **It's been sooo long. My brain has basically been dead of creativity, but please don't abandon these drabbles! There's still hope! XD

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

Momiji is mad at Haru. Haru told him that Kyo doesn't like him. That Kyo thinks Momiji is annoying, and that he is more like a girl than a Rabbit. Momiji thinks that Kyo is more like a meanie than a Cat, but he can't tell him that because Momiji is alone. He's at home, lying on his bed and listening to children laugh outside. Momiji wants to be friends with everyone, but how can he if they all try to ignore him?

Haru leaves Momiji lying on his bed, saying he's going to go see Kyo. Momiji wants to come, but what Kyo thinks still hurts Momiji's heart. He wants to ask Haru what the boy thinks of him, but Haru is gone very fast.

Momiji is thinking about maybe getting up to get some candy to nibble on, when his phone rings. He is surprised, but soon he hears his daddy's voice calling him from down the hall. Momiji jumps up, racing for the phone. It is for him.

He answers. It's Kagura, and she's telling him to hurry! Get to the dojo! Momiji doesn't know what to do, because isn't that where Haru and Kyo are? Momiji doesn't want them to get madder at him, and he tells that to Kagura. She starts to yell at him, because she is alone with Kyo and Haru and they're being stupid boys and ignoring her. She says Momiji is the only one who is nice to her, and this makes him feel better. Momiji gets off the phone and nearly flies to the dojo, where he sees Kagura waiting for him outside. She waves at him, and he waves back, following her inside. Haru and Kyo are fighting, sometimes slipping but managing to grab an ankle and pull the other down with them. Soon the martial arts are all forgotten, and they are punching each other like they're in a street brawl. Kagura starts to yell at them as Kazuma separates them. Momiji watches from behind Kagura, almost afraid to peek out.

Kyo sees him. Momiji flinches, but all Kyo asks is did Momiji see that? Did he see that cool punch? Momiji blinks, and Kyo is actually _smiling, _albeit with a black eye, but Momiji will take it over anything and nods, agrees. Yes, it was amazing, and he wished he could fight like that. Could Kyo teach him sometime? Kyo says no, but Haru volunteers to help. Momiji smiles.

He feels okay again, and soon all three of them are in a circle, trying to teach Momiji how to fight, because Kyo thinks he should act more like a guy. Kagura is mad at all three of them now, and fumes silently in the corner. Momiji invites her over, because he is in such a good mood now. Kagura hesitates, but finally trots over to watch.

Momiji smiles and laughs, because everyone knows it doesn't take much to make a child feel happy again.


	63. Taste

**A/N:** Back sooner than normal! Yaaay. By the way, this isn't an intentional Hatori and Tohru shippy drabble, but it could be read that way. I just like Hatori and Tohru interaction. 

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Taste**

He can never escape the house before she corners him.

He comes over to Shigure's house often now, more than he ever used to. He comes to play doctor, to wrap bandages and check wounds and give needles. He comes to aid the wayward Zodiac that often find themselves in Shigure's home. Hatori comes because he feels it is his duty, and he has plenty of alibis to back him up, anyway.

But he always tries to leave before the girl sees him, gasps, and runs at him before he can even finish slipping on his jacket as silently as possible after whatever it was he came to work on.

"Hatori-san!" she will cry, and then she will plague him with questions about food, recipes, tastes, spices, dairy products, allergies, fish, does he like fish? What about pork? And it hurts Hatori's head, because he was never big on food to begin with, but this girl seems absorbed by it.

Because whenever he comes, she is always cooking, and she always has something ready and waiting for him. It is always something he enjoys. He tastes it, he tastes her food, and it always has a unique flavour that he can never quite place. But it's delicious on his tongue, whatever the meal or the tea, and soon he is consumed by this puzzle, even when he is at home working on his files.

Why does he care? It's just food, isn't it?

But Hatori can't help it, and soon he calls Shigure on the phone to ask him.

"What is it about Honda-kun's cooking?" he asks.

"It's delicious!" crows his friend, who thinks he's being clever.

"No, why… why does it always taste like that?"

"… Like _what?_"

"I don't know… warm. And delicious. It's a flavour, or a spice she uses. What is it?"

"Oh, no, no, Hatori! That isn't what it is that makes her food taste so sublime!"

"Then what is it?" Hatori doesn't care for drawn out conversations.

"The ingredient, my friend, that makes her food taste so wondrous… is love."

And Hatori hangs up, not believing how corny that answer was, but deep in his heart he realizes it is true, and walks with a bit of a spring in his step that day.


	64. Boxes

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Boxes **

Tohru stared at the growing pile of boxes in her apartment silently. Too many boxes taped shut, with scrawled lettering marked on the sides with a thick, black felt marker. Just too many.

_CLOTHES_

_KITCHEN THINGS_

_BOOKS_

There were so many more with labels, so many more filled with everything from her home. Everything her mom had last touched, had last seen with her own eyes. And now it was all locked away in ugly, cardboard boxes for storage.

So many empty ones still stood to the side of the room. Tohru hadn't even touched her bedroom, let alone her mom's. They felt like sanctuaries, rooms that were never supposed to be changed. It hurt her to think anyone else would live in this apartment now, and share stories and memories like she and her mother had.

So many boxes, half of them full and half of them empty. Tohru picked up another empty one, walking grimly down the hall to her mom's bedroom. She had to get it over with. She had to _finish _it. It would hurt, and she would cry more than she had already, but then it would be done and she could try to move on from this horrible, horrible ache in her heart.

The air in her mom's room was stale. The bed was still rumpled from her last sleep in it, and her items lay scattered all over the room. Tohru dropped the box on the ground, already feeling the tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. This room was different than the rest of the house. This room was her mom's. It was all Tohru had left of her.

But she began anyway. Tohru stopped and lingered when she found old photos, when she spotted a book on the floor that her mother had always loved to read on rainy nights. Some of her old clothes she'd worn in her gang, tucked into the bottom drawer of her dresser. A ring given to her by her dad. A dried flower from some sort of ceremony. The wedding?

Tohru placed all of these things in the box, all of the little things her mom had loved and held dear to her heart, had displayed on all counter space in her room because she wanted to show them off.

It wasn't all of her mom's possessions. Just the important ones. The special ones.

The last item she placed in the box was a framed photo of Tohru and her mom, where Tohru had been sleeping and her mom had snuck up on her, taking a quick snapshot of them both, her mom grinning idiotically as she held the camera out and Tohru snoring. Tohru remembered the moments after the picture was taken: how she had woken up to the flash and her mom had giggled and hugged her, and Tohru had wished she'd been awake for the photo.

Closing the flaps of the box shut, Tohru tried to stem the flow of her tears as she began to pull the packing tape across the lid. Across. To the side. With trembling hands she pulled out the marker, twisted off the lid, and on the side of the box wrote:

_MEMORIES_


	65. Sight

**A/N:** I just got volume 16 today, so of course I'm going to write about Katsuya and Kyoko! Disclaimer: Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Sight **

"Do you need the glasses?"

Katsuya looks up from their view on the roof. It is one of their average meetings, but there is a strong wind blowing past them. It makes Kyoko's hair fly away from her face; he likes it.

"Excuse me?" he asks politely, a smile tugging on his lips.

"I… heard you." She's scowling out at the city below them, her eyes obviously averting his gaze. "Talking to those girls in the hall."

Katsuya thinks. Girls… oh. That was right. They'd asked him if he needed the glasses. He'd said no.

"But they make me look intelligent," he wheedles, smiling softly now. She shoots him a glare, but relaxes at his grin.

"Don't try pulling the same thing on me that you did them," she argues, her tone scorching when she speaks of his group of fans. "So again: do you need them?"

"Actually, yes," he replies, reluctant to quit teasing but knows that Kyoko will get angry if he doesn't finally give her a straight answer. Katsuya pulls the glasses out of his pocket, slipping them on his nose. "It helps for when I'm reading." He looks over at the girl beside him and sees her; she's sharper, and he can see the sparkle in her eyes as she looks at him.

"What?" he asks warily.

"You were right. They _do _make you look smart." She smirks at him. Katsuya gives her a look.

"I said they made me _feel _smart," he replies, feeling stung.

"Yes, well, now you look the part too." She walks up and flicks the nose of his glasses with a finger playfully. "Sensei," she adds, and he can hear the sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Katsuya knows she doesn't _really _see him as her superior. He enjoys knowing that fact.

"Shall we go back inside?" he asks calmly. Kyoko nods, but doesn't move from in front of him. The wind is still blowing, and strands of her hair are fighting fiercely in front of her eyes. She's watching him. Scrutinizing. "Now what?" he asks.

Kyoko doesn't speak, but plucks the glasses from Katsuya's nose and slips them back in the front pocket of his suit jacket. He stares at her, and she grins up at him. "You look—prettysmart with_out_ them on, too," she tells him as explanation for her actions, and then trots down the stairs into the school.


	66. Death

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Death **

I look up at Mama and she's lying in her bed again, staring at the wall. I know she's not sleeping, 'cause when I sleep I think my eyes are closed. Mama's are wide open, but when I try to jump on the bed and manage to poke her arm before falling back on the floor, she doesn't move.

I watch her a little bit longer. I'm scared of leaving because sometimes I think she won't be there anymore. She doesn't talk to me anymore and she doesn't look at me. It would be scary if she completely disappeared, just like Papa did.

I go into the main room and sit by the front door, waiting for Papa to walk in. He's always here to make Mama feel better again, and I want Mama to talk to me again. I want Papa to take me on walks and put me on his shoulders because I like to see all the people walk by from way up high. I want Mama to hug me and make me juice. I want to put my hands in paint and stamp them all over paper, making a heart for Mama and Papa, who always seem happy around each other.

Papa doesn't come through the door. I fall asleep with my head against the wall but wake up when I hear Mama stumbling around the kitchen. I crawl in and I see her leaning over the sink, her head down. I think she's washing her hands, but she's not moving.

Then I hear her crying.

And then I know Papa isn't coming through the door ever again, and that Mama will never smile again and I will never ride on Papa's shoulders, feeling like a bird. Ever again.


	67. Touch

**A/N:** I have a fixation with little kids lately. Baby Tohru, baby Kyo… I don't know.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Touch **

Today, Kyo sees a cat for the first time.

Today, Kyo is sitting in the backyard, scratching away peacefully at the dirt with a stick. Giant leaves from the towering oak tree shade him from the blazing sun. It's silent, his parents hiding from him in the house as usual.

But Kyo doesn't know this. He is content to sit in the quivering shadow of the tree's branches as he draws pictures in the dirt. Kyo can't speak yet, so he gurgles his happiness at what he's creating.

Something moves in the yard. Kyo sees it because it flashes bright yellow, more vivid than the sun and the flowers that sway in the gardens beside him. He stares at it. Its eyes are amber. It stands still the garden, its thin face staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

It is a cat. Kyo stares at it, eyes wide as he refuses to look away. Because looking at it gives the small child a familiar feeling. Kyo thinks he is looking in a mirror. That is what it feels like.

He sticks out a pudgy hand, as if commanding the cat to come near him. It is still standing like a statue, one paw lifted daintily away from the dirt. It hides behind the tulips, but Kyo lets out a noise that is between a peaceful meow and an ordering yowl. The cat hesitates only a moment more before trotting toward him.

Kyo giggles as he rests a hand in its soft fur, brushing his fingers through the silky strands. The cat purrs and Kyo tries to imitate it; the noise emits from his throat perfectly.

Today, Kyo is a little baby, barely a toddler. But more than anything, he feels like the cat that lies on the ground beside him, still purring as its tail thumps the ground in a rhythm.

Today, Kyo's hand is still scrunched up in the cat's luxurious fur as he sleeps beside it, dreaming—for the first and last time in his life—that he is a cat.


	68. Home

**A/N: **I faaaaail. Anyone still there? Hello? 

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Home**

Tohru walks down the street alone, humming quietly to herself. Strapped to her back is her book bag, full of homework. Grasped in her hand is a plastic bag full of ingredients she needs for tomorrow's supper.

Thinking about dinner has distracted her. Tohru doesn't realize where she is until she trips over her own untied shoelace. Stumbling, she drops the bag and watches it skid several feet in front of her.

It's a quiet street. An empty street. A street where children can run, play, and live happily. Tohru looks up, suddenly recognizing the area.

In front of her is her old apartment complex. In her mind she sees the apartment, sees the inside, her bedroom, the kitchen, the laundry they would have hung from the balcony to dry. But instead the apartment in front of her looks cold and lonely, except for a single light glimmering in one of the windows.

She stares at it for several minutes, but to her surprise no tears fall. No sense of horror and despair rips at her heart.

Instead, she finds herself thinking of dinner again, still staring up at that single light in the window.

It's not obvious to Tohru, but this apartment is no longer her home. The place where dinner waits to be cooked is where she belongs.

* * *

It has never been hard for Yuki. He has never had conflicted feelings. Where he came from was a prison, not a home. His bedroom consisted of nothing but a bed and a desk. His family was not really a family, but a group of people living in vicinity of one another… silently.

For Yuki, it has always been simple to discern what is truly home. The moment he stepped into Shigure's entrance room, and he saw his cousin standing in the doorway to greet him, he had known. The second Shigure held out not only one fan—but two—Yuki knew.

So he took the fan politely from his cousin, but inside he had been so sure he could have leapt for joy. This was where he was going to belong. This was the place he would build memories. It would be calm, peaceful, and away from the tight rein of Akito and his parents.

Normally, it is hard for Yuki to make decisions. Impossible, really. Should he leave the Sohma estate, or shouldn't he? Should he stand up to his parents, or shouldn't he? Should he be proud to be the Rat, or shouldn't he? But this was easy. _Too _easy.

Yuki isn't about to complain. Too easy is just right for him.

* * *

To this day, Kyo still has two homes. Shishou's house waits contentedly for him whenever he needs it. It is there for when he wants to escape Shigure or Yuki. It is there so he can cook for Kazuma, so he can visit with his father and tease Kunimitsu.

Kazuma's home is there to comfort him.

But there is another home. Kyo can't wait to go home sometimes, because he knows Tohru will be waiting to greet him, or maybe she'll walk home with him. And as much as Kyo tries to ignore it, Shigure is amusing to be around. Yuki is a completely different story, but… but even the Rat adds something to the house.

Kyo looks forward to yelling at Shigure. He looks forward to glaring at Yuki, to accuse him of some wrongdoing. He looks forward to seeing Tohru smile. He looks forward to training in the morning, to study in his room in the evening, to sit up on the roof at night. He even enjoys flipping through some of the books Shigure has left in his room, lingering from the library.

Kyo enjoys it all. He has two homes, but it is clear which is—and always will be—more important to him.


	69. Sixth Sense

**A/N:** My first drabble about volume 16! I have been soooo busy and unhealthy you guys would not believe. I apologize!! 

By the why, it's Hana-chaaaaaan

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Sixth Sense**

You are sitting there, cold and lonely. You are crying. Your thoughts, your voice, screaming in my mind are now louder because you are just down the street.

You don't notice me yet. But I feel your grief and you are shrieking, begging for help. Why didn't you let me know? Why didn't you tell me you had finally broken?

"Tohru-kun," I whisper, but you don't hear me. You are blinded by a sadness I can't explain. Something is confusing you, horrifying you. I don't want to delve too deep; it is not my business. But at the same time I want to hug you and make you smile again.

Could I live without your smile?

I walk up to you. You twitch, startled, and look up. For a moment I see in your eyes that you think I am someone else, as if you were expecting a different person. Your eyes register me, and they fill with tears.

You do not belong in their world.

I am the only one who heard you crying.

I will be the one to rescue you.


	70. Curse

**A/N: **Basically, I'm horrible. I've been in this huge funk, but here we go! This is my second writer's choice word (the first was boxes).

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Curse**

Hiro had his own reasons for wanting to break the curse.

Most of them selfish.

So he could hug his mother so tightly that he would nearly knock the breath out of her. To be able to feel her arms enclosed around him.

To feel the guilt of Kisa's beating float off of his shoulders.

So he could be free of Akito's constant shadow, destroying his life person by person.

So he could stop feeling the pain every other Zodiac member felt.

So he could forget that Rin was ever thrown out of a window by God.

But most of all, Hiro felt the burning desire to be free of the curse when he saw his baby sister cradled in his mother's arms. He could always get close, so close he could smell that baby-smell and see nothing but the shining of her large eyes. He could see the freckles on her face, the dark sprouts of hair on her head.

But he could never get close enough.

Never hold her.

Love her. _Really _love her, with the tickling and the hugging and the holding close when things went wrong in her life.

Hiro wanted that curse—that dark shadow—gone. He wanted to be human again. He wanted to be a real part of Hinata's life, and not just the silhouette of a brother he was now.


	71. Why?

**A/N: **Sometimes I write drabbles that don't have much to do with the word… at all… ha… ha… also this is more like a one-shot than a drabble, whoops.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100

**Why?**

Rin hates herself. She hates that Shishou's house feels more like home than Kagura's house. That's not fair to her cousin and she knows it, but she can't help but feel suffocated there, constantly shut up in her room, too afraid and sad to spend time with the family that isn't hers.

_Why?_

Shishou is softer, not so in her face, and that's good. She knows he has had to deal with Kyo and all of his problems, and so maybe that's why Shishou enjoys her company. Maybe, compared to the Cat, she is relatively easy to take care of.

_Why?_

She walks down the halls, bored, having had the broom snatched away from her once more by Kunimitsu. Not allowed to do anything? She'll officially go crazy. She fingers her short hair; still reveling in the bizarre bounce it has on her shoulders. Somehow, this shorter hair helps her feel more human, and less horse.

A half-open door catches her attention. She peeks in, and is surprised to see a perfect room, the bed sheets folded, things hanging from the walls, and pile of children's books lined up neatly in the bookshelf.

This is Kyo's room.

It's not like she _hates _him or anything. But there is this weird tension between them, protection over Haru or something, maybe. Or maybe it's the more obvious reason: Kyo hates her coming into his house, looking at his stuff (which she never did, anyway, but he always accused her of doing so), and spending time with his 'father'. Maybe that is it.

She steps inside without turning on the light. There are empty gaps in the bookshelf, the drawers of a clothes chest half-opened in haste. Yes, there were holes in this room, because Kyo had moved out to spend time with Shigure. Rin still doesn't really understand why Kyo is with Yuki and Shigure… and why Tohru is with them, either…

_Why?_

Her thoughts drift as she surveys the room she's never been in. When she stays she is always careful to stay away from areas Kyo sees as precious: his bedroom, the bathroom at the end of the hall, Shishou's room, this certain section of the kitchen he always declared 'his part of the kitchen' when they were younger. What was it like? To have a bedroom he could relax in, rather than be trapped in? Or to have a loving father waiting on your every whim? To still have his love, even though they don't live in the same house anymore?

Rin feels that familiar ache of envy whenever she thinks about Kyo, and thinks he's stupid for ever complaining. His life is good, his life is—

"Oi. What're you doing in here?" She hears his voice from the sliver of light from the hall. Rin jumps off of the bed, flattening her skirt almost self-consciously.

"Just looking." There's no harm in it.

Kyo eyes her warily. "In my room."

"Old room."

"Get the hell out." They don't often speak to each other, but when they do it is often like this. Rin watches him darkly, hoping he'll twitch; he doesn't. Instead, they stare at each other with the same eyes. Finally she moves, and slides past him into the hallway. Kyo shuts the door.

"What are you doing here?"

Rin shrugs. "Looking at stuff."

"No, you idiot." He grimaces. "Here. At my house."

"I thought you lived with Shigure and the others," Rin says, almost as a question.

Kyo frowns. "This is still _my _house."

Rin sighs lightly. Yes, it has always been this way. Still an insecure duel between two people caught between growing up and the fear of doing so. "I'm staying here for awhile. Kagura's house—" At the name, Kyo's face tightens; his eyes hastily look away, and his fingers suddenly fumble with a loose thread on his shirt. Rin quirks an eyebrow.

"So what she said true? You two broke up?"

Kyo's face is bright red, but the frown on it, the look in his eyes, takes away all the humor from the blush. "We weren't together," he says darkly, and for the first time she doesn't snap back. He looks… hurt?

Without realizing it, before she can take it back, Rin reaches out and touches his fumbling fingers with her pale hand lightly. He stops fiddling with the thread. She looks up at him. He is so tall, she realizes.

"It'll be okay." Not exactly comfort at its best, but—

He snorts, and then pulls his hand away, crossing his arms defensively. "Why? Why will it be 'okay'? Nothing good ever happens around here." And before she can glare at him he is walking down the hall, his back to her.


	72. Smell

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Smell**

Maybe it was because he was the Dog.

Or maybe it was just because of her scent.

Or maybe it was because they had an undeniable connection.

Either way, all that Shigure understood was that she smelled wonderful.

He was fifteen. She was young, almost too young to be thinking that way. But he couldn't help it. Every time she bossed him around, or yelled at him, or cried because of her mother, Shigure couldn't help but want to hold her just so he could smell her.

It must have been the Dog side of him. Because thinking about it, it seemed pretty creepy.

But it seemed normal whenever it happened. When he held her close and rocked her gently to sleep, he would take in her scent: something powerful, unattainable, mixed with flowers. She smelled of nature, of the wild, of the earth.

And when he didn't think too hard, it seemed natural. After all, she _was _God. Maybe she just—naturally smelled wonderful.

Thinking about it, he was stupid. He just _shouldn't _have thought about it. After all, it was comfortable. Natural. He was the Dog. Dogs smelled things. You know.

Besides, she never ran from him. Quite the opposite, in fact. He took that as a good sign, and never told a soul about Akito's fragrance.


	73. Parents

**A/N:** Since I've only read to volume 19, it really seems like Komaki lives with Kakeru and his mom. Um, huh? So I inferred that maybe her dad had been the only parent she had and when he died she moved in with her boyfriend's family or something. That's what I'm saying. Teehee. Also whoa talk about forever.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Parents**

When Komaki got the news, she was sitting at home.

When Komaki got the news, she was eating dinner alone, waiting for her father arrive.

When Komaki got the news, she was thinking of Manabe.

When Komaki got the news, she broke down into tears.

Over the phone. It was never right over the phone, like talking to a ghost, someone who didn't exist. Talking to a lie.

"_We found this phone number in his wallet… Are you a family member?" _

Yes, of course she was. Komaki was the only true family member, the only one.

_"We have him here…"_

She couldn't even remember the name of the hospital. She had had to ask twice—three times—what the name was.

"_He's in critical condition…_"

She had run, run so fast with tears streaming out of her eyes and all she could think of was trying to live without him. He was her rock, her love, her _dad._ He was the one who had taken care of her, loved her like a parent should. Komaki couldn't help but imagine a wedding without walking down with her father, a grandchild who would never know their grandpa, a future without talking to her dad every night about her day.

It couldn't happen. It _wouldn't._

But when she got there—breathless, red in the face, no air left—when she got there it was too late, and she walked into his room and saw him lying there with blood on his face, a gash covered by bandages on his head. A broken collarbone, they said. Broken ribs. Collapsed lung. Internal bleeding. All science, all cells and molecules and blood and things Komaki didn't understand. All she knew was that her father was dead, dead in front of her. No heartbeat, no breathing, no thought. Never would he think of his daughter again, his life, his meals. He wouldn't dream, wouldn't wake up in the morning, wouldn't greet Komaki with a good morning hug.

Komaki broke down, right beside that bed, curled up on the floor and grasped her father's hand—still warm—as she cried until she was gasping for air. And then she cried more.

Down the hall, in a different room, Tohru Honda began to cry silently beside the cold body of a woman, and the two girls would never be the same again.


	74. Shapes

**A/N: **I really seem to enjoy writing Akito and Shigure, wow I love their relationship! Also, this could totally tie into my chapter called _Square._

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Shapes**

"Shigure, Yuki won't draw a proper square."

Akito's polite tone snaps Shigure out of one of the novels he had been lazily reading on the patio. He had a small pile beside him, having just visited the library. As was his usual ritual Shigure was waiting down the hall of Akito's room, just in case she called for him. She did that often, but he was used to it by now.

He looked up to see the little girl standing above him, her brow creased in a confused sort of way, paper and paintbrush clutched tightly in her hand. Ink was dripping onto the patio, but Shigure didn't dare say anything.

"Why do you want a square?" asked Shigure, smoothly taking the paper out of her hand and resting it on the patio, tugging the paintbrush from her hand so he could draw her a square. She immediately squatted down beside him, wrapping her little arms around her legs. She stared up at him with her empty black eyes, and Shigure felt unnerved and compelled all at the same time.

"Because I just want a square, okay?" she snapped in a pouting voice. Shigure shrugged and softly drew a square, precise and exact in the centre of the paper. Akito stared at it and Shigure waited silently for her approval.

Her finger suddenly stabbed at another spot on the paper. "A triangle," she commanded, and to hear such a bossy voice come out at such a pitch made Shigure smirk, but he drew her triangle.

"There. A diamond." Shigure obliged, painting a perfect diamond in the lower left corner. And so on and so forth, with numerous random shapes.

"And there—a heart." Shigure noticed how her voice grew soft on the last word, but he didn't comment. He never commented, not really. Not until she would begin to understand him, anyway.

Akito stared at the paper for several moments, at all the mismatched shapes she had ordered Shigure to paint. "In the heart. Write your name." Shigure couldn't help but let a little giggle escape, and Akito's pale face flushed a deep crimson, as if she had just understood the quiet words she had uttered.

"What?!" she asked angrily, and before Shigure could object she snatched the paper and paint brush from the ground, ink flying from the brush onto Shigure's uniform shirt sleeve. He looked at it, a little disappointed, but Akito didn't even notice. "Just nevermind!" she spat, and stomped away down the hall, to her room, where he heard the door slam shut and then her shrieks at little Yuki.

And Shigure realized that he must have been twisted, because that entire little episode had been sort of cute.


	75. Club

**A/N:** Just some good ol' student council fun. Also, I wrote this before I ever watched Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Just so those who notice know. And I count the student council as a club, of sorts. Mhhhm.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Club**

"You are NOT treating this like the student council vice-president SHOULD!"

"Oh yea? Aren't we just talking about jobs we're supposed to be doing?"

"Jobs? What _jobs?! _You're talking about setting off fireworks at lunch and having gourmet cafeteria menus, and—and—"

Manabe glowers at Nao. "What? What?" he prods, with only a hint of force. Nao looks deep into Manabe's hard eyes, gulps, and finally shouts,

"You want the student council to become a BAND?!"

Manabe stares at the small boy as if he's crazy. "Well… yea."

The other members have drifted off from the meeting, no longer caring about Manabe's crazy ideas. Machi is busy stuffing some paper into a cupboard; Kimi is gone, off flirting with teachers no doubt; and the president is talking to someone out in the hall. Nao can see the shadow of his body behind the frosted glass in the classroom door.

"I mean, c'mon! Don't I look like the coolest guitarist ever?" Manabe asks seriously as he jumps in front of Nao, head banging and strumming on an invisible guitar.

"Oh Lord, stop before you start making guitar noises!" Nao shouts, so very tempted to smack the idiot upside the head.

Manabe opens his mouth, smirking, ready to belt into some horrid rock song, when Nao finally gives up and throws a piece of paper in Manabe's face. They are so close from yelling at each other that it hits him squarely. Manabe pauses, surprised, and Nao stares at him triumphantly, yet coldly, sad he had to lower himself to throwing bits of paper.

"This the _student council_, vice-president Manabe! This is not some wishy-washy, five-year-old's 'we're better than everyone else because our fort is in the top of the tree' _club_!"

Nao glares up at Manabe, trying to stare him down. But the older boy doesn't look angry, merely… curious? Nao feels rage sparking again. "Did you even HEAR me?" he snaps.

"Yea…" Manabe's eyes drift away from the short boy, and Nao sees him taking in their small room that acts as a student council office. Then, his eyes widen; a wicked grin appears on his face. Nao feels sick.

"That's it! That's it! Chibi-suke, you're a genius!" Manabe takes two bounding leaps until he grabs Machi by the wrist. Dragging her to the front door he rips it open. Yuki and—surprisingly—Kimi are outside chatting, trying to ignore the noise Nao and Manabe are making.

"You guys! You guys!" Nao hesitantly takes a step closer to the door, not able to see anything past the back of Manabe's bobbing head of black hair. "Nao came up with a great idea!"

This is when the dread begins to twist Nao's stomach. He takes a step closer.

"Oh really?" Yuki asks, sounding curious because Manabe says that Nao came up with the idea, but then again… it's _Manabe_, and Nao can't blame him for sounding a bit suspicious. Machi is still standing still, as if she's not even paying attention.

"Ooh, what?" Kimi asks, sounding chipper and excited as always.

Manabe looks completely sure of himself as he states in a solemn voice, "the club office is moving to a tree fort!"

Silence. And then it all happens at once: Yuki sighs heavily, ruffling his papers like a duck with its feathers; Kimi claps her hands and crows about how fun that would be, but wouldn't there be bugs?; Machi's frown deepens; and Nao just wants to rip his hair out. So instead he strides quickly into the office, closing the door behind him, leaving the noise of the council behind him.

And he stares around the office and finds himself thinking about how neat it would if it were actually up in a tree—and then he realizes what he's doing and feels a bit sick to his stomach.


	76. Triangle

**A/N: **That's right, I update in spurts! I like the idea of Kagura always worrying about Kyo when they're younger, trying to figure out how to fix him. It's her fault, but also an endearing sort of thing.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Triangle**

"Kyo-kun, your heart…"

Kyo looked up from his homework. At the age of fourteen and near the end of the school year, he was busily trying to study for his high school entrance exams. But of course, having Kagura barge into his house and force herself to "help" him study did nothing to improve his mood… _or _his work.

He ground the lead of his pencil into his paper; annoyed that Kagura had drifted off from her sentence and was now watching the roof. "What about it?" he snapped, thinking she was going to start talking about how many litres of blood it pumped or some other science fact she was proclaiming to study. She blinked, looking over at him. Smiled. Then he knew that wasn't what she meant.

"Nothing."

And went back to busily writing.

Kyo rolled his eyes. "What, so the only time you'll actually study is when you're trying to avoid me?"

Kagura began to hum louder, scribbling faster and faster on her paper.

"What are you--?" Kyo tried to glance at her paper, but Kagura slammed a hand down over it.

"No peeking!" she scolded, smiling and winking at him. "It's a secret," she whispered more solemnly. Kyo sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever." But he was still curious. _What _about _my heart?_

"Well, I'm hungry!" Kagura stood up abruptly a few moments later. "I think I'm gonna go home and have some dinner. Mm!"

"Kagura—"

"Nope! I know you want me to stay longer, Kyo-kun, but I just can't!" She leaned over and gripped him in a tight hug. Kyo forced himself to breathe properly so he wouldn't freak out. He was about to open his mouth anyway, until he felt a piece of paper being slid into his hand. Kagura pulled away. "Have fun studying!" And she grabbed her bag and dashed out the door.

Kyo stared at the paper folded in his hand. It was the same paper she had written on earlier. He blinked. _What the hell is this? _

He unfolded it slowly, almost afraid of what its contents would be. Scolding? Forcing him to meet for a date? The thought made him shudder.

_Kyo-kun,_

_Your heart… it's like a triangle, you know? Actually, an upside-down triangle, because that looks more like a heart._

_But I just wanted to tell you that. Your triangle heart… it needs to soften up a bit, cause it doesn't look like a heart at all! Make it warmer, and the edges will round. Like a heart! Do you get it? _

_I guess I can't really be philosophical unless it's on paper. I just felt the need to tell you that. Soften your heart. Let people enter it. And then it won't be a pointy little triangle anymore, right?_

_-Kagura_

Kyo stared. Shocked. Disturbed. _What is she even talking about? _He thought, completely and utterly perplexed.

"A triangle? That girl is crazy." But he folded up the paper again and stuffed it into his pocket as he got up. He had no idea why he did it, either.

"It's not _that _pointy," he suddenly muttered to himself, and then gathered his books and tromped sourly up to his room.


	77. Spirit

** A/N:** All right, so I just got volume 20. I DO NOT KNOW THE WHOLE STORY YET, so please please don't spoil me past 20. I'm gonna write a few drabbles for this so please don't be like 'actually, Kureno didn't die' or whatever (this one isn't about Kureno). Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Spirit**

Hiro could almost pinpoint the millisecond his Zodiac spirit left his body forever.

He had just been watching Hinata play with her toys with curiosity, wondering for the millionth time what it would feel like to hold her.

And then it was gone.

Hiro had never truly noticed the weight of his spirit. It had been his life ever since he was born; how else would he feel? But once it was gone it felt as if a burden had been lifted off of his shoulders but shoved down on his back instead.

In that one second where he had decided he had maybe outgrown wishing for the curse to be gone—he would have to be mature with Hinata around now—it had left him. Just like that, with no warning, no preparation.

It felt like the Ram had abandoned him… or had he been the one to leave it at the side of the metaphorical road? It was all a jumble, confusion, _had it really happened_?

As Hiro reached out with trembling hands to his sister and wrapped her warm squishy body in his arms, all of these thoughts raced through his head, and then he was crying, crying so softly he didn't realize. But a best friend had just left him for the rest of his life. The connection was gone, he didn't belong anymore, he was just a regular _boy _and it was enough to cry.

To wish and pray and wish some more for such a thing to leave had been what Hiro had always done. But now it had actually happened, and Hiro didn't know how to react. So instead he just cried and wrapped his shaking arms tighter around his sister, and distantly he heard his mother's voice calling out to him.


	78. Knife

**A/N:** Writer's choice! So sue me, I'm not creative.

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Knife**

"Akito, Akito, be careful!"

Kureno rushes forward, flopping down onto his knees and carefully prying the knife out of young Akito's somewhat pudgy hands. She stares at her empty hand, and then up at him. "What?" she asks grouchily.

Kureno sighs and cuts Akito's food himself, with the knife and the fork that he knows how to use and sadly, she does not. Akito has never had to prepare her own meals (for that fact, neither has Kureno), and she has never had to do anything to her meals once they arrived. But at this time she has a loose tooth and has valiantly decided to cut her foot into smaller pieces so it won't hurt so much to eat.

"Where did you even get this?" asks Kureno curiously with a little smile. Akito is still staring at her hands. She finally looks up at him with her large eyes, as if she is surprised by something.

"I stole it," she says simply. "Everything here belongs to me anyway."

Kureno tightens his lips but doesn't say anything against her. So that rotten old maid is still drilling stupid stuff like that into her head, huh? The maid loves Akito so much she should just put her on a pedestal and paint her gold to complete the job. Kureno feels his anger subsiding as quickly as it comes. He has never been one to stay angry for long.

"Of course," he says, and slides the knife through the pork. Suddenly it slips and his finger is beneath it. "Ouch!" he cries, starting back from the plate; the utensils clatter to the ground. Akito stands up immediately, although it doesn't make much of a different to her height.

"Kureno!" she yells, rushing over, grabbing his larger hand with her smaller ones. She inspects it with nervous eyes. Kureno watches the bright red blood trickle from a tiny cut on his finger.

"Don't worry Akito," Kureno says with a small smile. "No little knife can hurt me."

And Akito looks so relieved; so happy that Kureno is still safe, that he can never imagine this little girl thinking any wrong of him.

* * *

His words echo through his mind as the little knife pierces into his back. He can feel muscles tearing, flesh breaking, blood spilling out of where it belongs. It's a horrible pain, but it's not the physical ache he feels.

It's the betrayal of his lover.

His best friend.

The girl he has done everything for: given up a normal life, hidden secrets, held at night, helped cut her goddamn pork.

And here she is, stabbing him, yelling harsh words, and Kureno worries for her health and her sanity and _please_, he's worked so hard to heal her, she can't break now! And that's all he thinks, all he says to the maid, and then he's falling forward into the muddy earth with the knife wound open to the rain above him, and suddenly his thoughts fly to Arisa and he already misses her, but not as much as he will miss Akito.

Goodbye.


	79. Earth

**A/N:** Finally! I apologize, but now that volume 21 is out I have lots of material to work with, heehee.

**Disclaimer:** Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Earth**

Kyo runs. He runs and runs and focuses on his muscles because if he lets his mind stray he is sure his knees will buckle, his breathing will stop, and he'll collapse from pure terror.

Run faster, faster, or it's too late, was Akito lying, is Shigure lying, it's just a cruel, sick joke. They're all making fun of him for turning her down. His eyes are stinging from tears or from sweat, his mind is a mess, he can't help but remember his horrible words of "_Now I'm disillusioned_" and that crestfallen look on her face. So he'd run.

He's running again.

Kyo stumbles over a root and nearly falls flat on his face. He lets out a frustrated growl and speeds up again, no clue where he's going, no idea where to look.

And then, it's as if he senses the Rat's presence, heavy and cold and _there_, to his left. Kyo swerves and breaks out of the trees in one swift move.

He gasps for air, almost unable to breathe, and there is Tohru, crumpled and covered with dirt, the earth, a pile of it beside her, falling on her, near her, like a ladder up to the place where she'd been standing only moments ago… Kyo has no idea why she was with Akito or why Akito was running blindly through the woods, and at the moment he can care less about Akito.

He sees her face, now so expressionless, and remembers it before, only _moments _before, where she'd been crying and yelling at him for being so stupid and so cold to her feelings for him.

"No, no, no, no," he whispers, and there is not enough times he can say it. His mind has shut down; his heart is beating so fast it's going to explode. And finally, his knees buckle and he crumbles beside Tohru, watching her, seeing her blood on his hand, _her _blood, her mom's blood, and he begins to cry.


	80. Lunch

**Disclaimer: **Fruits Basket belongs to Natsuki Takaya. The 100 drabbles idea belongs to fanfic100.

**Lunch**

Machi was scared.

Standing outside of Yuki's home was no easy task. He'd given her very detailed directions, along with a map and several landmarks he hadn't drawn listed beside it, like a maze, a puzzle. She'd figured it out, of course, but to see his home in all its glory (fancy brook, nice little bridge, old-fashioned, expensive home) it was enough to make her tremble.

She knew who else lived there.

Tohru Honda.

Kyo Sohma.

And their uncle, or something.

Yuki had asked her yesterday if she could come and eat lunch at his home.

"You're cooking?" she'd asked, a bit excited, and Yuki had grinned happily at her.

"If you'd like!"

And Machi had never been asked her opinion before Yuki came along, and now he always asked it, about everything: his tie, the policies of the council, her interests, her ideas on politics, on music, on everything and anything. She was almost used to it by now… but not quite. She'd blushed and mumbled out a "yes, please." And Yuki had taken up the job gallantly, as he did with everything.

So back to the door. Machi was standing in front of it, finally deciding not to wear her school uniform on a social outing. She felt strange in regular clothes and flattened her skirt anxiously. Tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Remembered holding Yuki's hand and the feeling of her heart beating in her chest.

She rang the doorbell.

Silence, and then pattered footsteps. The door swung open, and Yuki was standing there in a frilly pink apron and a goofy smile on his face. His hair was askew and his face had some sort of white powder smattered on it.

"Machi!" he greeted cheerfully, but Machi was too busy staring at his apron to notice. Yuki saw her gaze and blushed with embarrassment. "Ah, yes, well, Honda-san usually cooks and she's the only one with an apron…"

Machi nodded, understood, and stepped inside. She gazed around the entryway: clean wooden floors, neatly lined up shoes… "I thought Honda-san was still in the hospital?" Machi asked. Yuki nodded stiffly.

"Yes, but Shigure has decided to keep the place tidy until she comes back." Yuki smiled at Machi. "What a wonderful change has come over him."

Machi didn't know Shigure. She nodded along anyway and followed Yuki as he explained all of the room, funny incidents that occurred in several, and finally to the table where he pointed out her pillow and quickly brought out some tea.

"I never got to host people. This is fun!" Yuki said. Machi smiled up at him.

"I like your apron," she finally said, and Yuki blinked.

"Suits me?" he asked teasingly, and Machi nodded without much hesitation.

"Pink is your color," she advised. She saw him tilt his head curiously, with one eyebrow up and the other quirked down. She knew that expression, like she knew all of them. He was confused by her words, wondering if she was really joking or being completely serious. It was expressions like those that made her like him all the more.

They had tea. It was scary, but pleasant. Yuki made it easy.

And then he brought out lunch.

And it was burned to a crisp.

They laughed about it with tears in their eyes for fifteen minutes, Yuki repeating over and over that he should never be allowed to cook, his track record was horrible, the sea of garbage (whatever that last one meant)!

So they ordered take-out.

And it was nice.


	81. Birth

**A/N:** Just read volume 23… and now I need to finish this. Because Furuba is done, and I should be too. I loved it. So much.

The premise behind this one is a bit weird. Uh, sorry.

**Birth**

"A baby boy," she whispers, unbelieving. To see her daughter lying in a hospital bed—slightly pudgier than she remembers, her hair tied back in a messy bun, her eyes exhausted—reminds Kyoko of her own time in that hospital, with Katsuya at her side and squeezing her hand.

"That's him?" asks a gruff voice beside her ear. She jumps and looks over at him. Katsuya's eyes are narrowed at Kyo; the man Tohru fell in love, the man who fell in love with Tohru. Kyoko rolls her eyes and hits his shoulder lightly.

"He's a good kid. I used to chat with him when he was little. Would you believe it?" She lets a sad smirk tug at her lips. "Some things just aren't a coincidence…"

They're silent, surveying the quiet hospital room without speaking. Earlier that day hordes of people had come in and out, in and out, bringing gifts and flowers and cooing over the baby. Now that it is two o'clock in the morning it's just Tohru and Kyo; the baby is in the nursery.

"So we're grandparents," Katsuya whispers, and Kyoko feels his hand brushing her short hair back gently.

"We _would _be grandparents," Kyoko reminds him with a hint of despair. She is supposed to be accustomed to the thought by now, that her daughter is living a life without her, that she is having experiences and meeting people she can never tell Kyoko about. That train of thought makes her heartache, and she always tries to push it aside and just be happy for Tohru, like Katsuya seems to be able to.

"We should be getting back," he says again, softly, and Kyoko knows he's right. Earth is no place for them. Not anymore.

"I just don't want to leave her," she whispers, feeling tears falling. "It's not fair." She steps closer to her daughter, but then hesitates, afraid. Even if Tohru wakes, she will not see her. That scares her more than anything.

"Kyoko." Katsuya's hand holds hers suddenly, fingers intertwined. "She'll be fine. She's our daughter, after all." The smirk on his face is enough to make Kyoko let out a choked laugh. She glances at her daughter, at the boy—no, man—Kyo.

"I'm so glad she's happy." Kyoko rubs at her eyes furiously with her free hand. "So glad she's safe. I'm so glad." These words are all uttered in between repressed hiccups and quiet sobs.

Katsuya reminds her once more they must leave, and finally Kyoko leans down and kisses her daughter, now a mother about to embark on a whole other journey on the cheek; brushes her hair back from her pale face. "We love you," she whispers.

Tohru wakes up abruptly. Sees nothing but Kyo dozing in the chair in the corner. She feels an ache in her heart, doesn't think that's normal. She drifts back off to sleep, and later that morning when she wakes up to find Kyo holding their baby son in his arms, she doesn't even remember the feeling.


End file.
